Sex, the Stars & Princess Simla Read online

  He was moving too fast, she needed time to think. One of the reasons his father had sent her alone was because he knew how single-minded she was and he didn’t want any bevy of courtiers clouding her mind with doubt. And now this First Minister offered to help her and was full of suggestions, but he didn’t seem to be any kind of hindrance. In fact, he was the most dynamic man she’d met in years, a match for herself, almost.

  “Let me sleep on it, “ she said quietly.

  “If you’re tired I can call this circus to a close.”

  She thanked him for his gallantry and made her way back to the apartment, having asked Yaf to send some food there. She’d danced so much she’d forgotten to eat at the reception.

  To her surprise it was Yaf himself who wheeled her dinner into her. “I thought we could talk some more while you ate,” he explained as he sat down beside her on her bed.

  She inched away from him, her eyes on Shap. “Simla’s bed is a dangerous place, Yaf.”

  “I think Shap knows me by now.”

  “He’ll still cut your balls off if you lay a hand on me.”

  He started slightly at her crudity, but caught himself. “You’re a beautiful woman, Simla, but not every man is eager to get his claws on you.”

  “Oh, does my beauty not beguile you?”

  “Entrances me, but I don’t think you’re worth getting my balls ripped off for.”

  “I’d have a surgeon stitch them back on, promise.”

  He ignored her and began placing food for her onto a platter. She appreciated the gesture and grabbed the dish of roasted meats in gravy, vegetables and bread baked with herbs. It was delicious. “You set a good table, Yaf.”

  Yaf accepted the compliment with a nod. “It wouldn’t stand well if an agricultural world like Pendor didn’t feed it’s people well. But the reason I needed to talk to you further is because I wanted to assure you that you take the lead on this mission. I saw you hesitate when I offered to join you, don’t deny it. But I only want to help you, I’m no glory hunter.”

  She looked at his chiselled face and decided to test his mettle. “Shap, check his biographical database. Is he now, or has he ever been, what could be described as a glory hunter?”

  The response was quick. “Within the biographical information in my database, no.”

  Yaf clapped his hands in triumph. “There, I’m vindicated!”

  She laughed at his gloating while chewing on a piece of venison. “I may not accept my android’s judgement. You might just be the guy that wants to be remembered as the man who saved the human race.”

  “And you don’t want to be the girl who does the saving?”

  She finished her meal and pushed the plate away. “But I didn’t volunteer. I’m under the express command of the Great Father.”

  “Your dear father.”

  “I’m a Royal Princess, dear boy, I could be sunning myself on a beach in a tiny bikini, sipping rum cocktails and tantalising the local boys, not tramping across the galaxy with an android for a chaperone.”

  “Then neither of us is a glory hunter and we do this for the greater good of humanity?”

  “Agreed, we are totally selfless.” She smiled and pulled her legs under her on the bed but decided against reclining with Shap’s baleful glare on her. She had an urgent urge to flirt with this man but to put temptation in his way when it might lead to murder or mutilation seemed a step too far.

  Luckily Yaf took the initiative. “Shap, would you take the trolley back to the kitchens?”

  The android hesitated.

  “The kitchens are on the floor below and there is an elevator ten yards from that door. You can be back in three minutes and I doubt I can seduce your mistress in that time.”

  There was another pause before the android moved. “I do not need to be present to defend my mistress. My hearing is highly tuned and I shall hear any infraction.” He pushed the trolley hesitantly towards the door. The moment he was through it Yaf stretched toward her and kissed her quickly on the lips. “A silent kiss then,” he whispered.

  He’d kissed her! She squirmed with delight. And she would have him to herself on a long voyage. And surely warships had many hidden corridors and rooms where it would take an age for a android to find them. But she must make him work for her hand.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked.

  “Because I wanted to. I have this strange compulsion to kiss beautiful women.”

  “Ah, so, you think I’m beautiful.”

  “Not classically, because that’s boring. But you have a face, Simla, that positively sings.”

  She hugged her knees. “Simla with the Singing Face. You make me sound like a sideshow freak.”

  “You don’t take compliments easily, I like that.”

  “Well, I don’t get them that often.”

  “Now, you’re fishing. Tell me about yourself, Princess Simla of Old Earth.”

  Simla stretched out as Shap returned and took up his position. “What is there to tell? I’m the second youngest of the Great Father’s eight daughters, Geneva’s the youngest. I’m the no-talent one, but that’s okay because nobody expects anything from me that way.”

  “I don’t believe that for a moment. You’re one of the most fascinating women I’ve ever met.”

  “Ah, that’s my personal magnetism. I had it recharged before I set off on this trip.”

  “Oh God, and a sense of humor too, I love it.”

  “You’re pretty cute yourself.”

  “Madam, I am First Minister of an entire planet, I cannot be described as cute, it would look ridiculous on the election posters. Vote Alrick, Your Cute Candidate.”

  Simla laughed and decided that she definitely liked this man. “What do your posters say?”

  He rested a casual hand on her ankle. “Oh farmers are boring people so I have to be boring old Yaf for them, and it’s mostly true.”

  “Now, that’s a lie. Doesn’t seem to me like you’re the kind of guy who’d get into politics.”

  “Yeah? The truth is that I was born to serve, it was the way I was brought up.”

  “Oh God, you sound just like my Dad. He’s always harping on about our role in life and serving the people. Guess I’m too self-centred for that.”

  “Doesn’t strike me that way.”

  Simla found herself drifting into the warm stare of his brown eyes. “Oh, they’re always finding little missions to send Simla on, just to give her something to do.”

  “I don’t think this is a little mission. I wouldn’t send somebody I didn’t trust implicitly on such an important task.”

  “Oh, I have my uses, but the Great Father could have got his message to the Twelve Worlds with one transmission.”

  Yaf shook his head. “No, that was a masterstroke. Sending his own daughter carries much more weight.”

  “And there I thought he just wanted me out of the way to stop cluttering up the Palace.”

  “You live in the Great Father’s Palace?”

  “All five unmarried Princesses do. We have an apartment each, so we’re not in each other’s pockets.”

  A Princess that lives in a Palace, I am moving in exalted circles.”

  “It’s nothing but a bore, Yaf, believe me. And a hypocritical one at that. Dad’s elected, but they call him Great Father and his daughters Princesses like he was some ancient King or Emperor. Where’s the sense?”

  “Tradition’s a powerful force, Simla, and people need it. It’s fine as long as it’s not misused.”

  She threw her head back. “Oh, I’ve seen them all, Serdan Dukes with their silly swords and Kindoran Earls who have their lineage tattooed on their back. They’re insane, it contributes nothing to humanity.”

  He smiled. “Live and let live, or in the Old Earth adage, ‘It takes all sorts to make the world go round.’ Let them have their little fantasies. It’s not as if it’s like the old days when the aristocracy lived off the sweat of working men and women. They’re just silly pe
ople who like to give themselves silly titles.”

  She wondered how they had drifted away from the important subject of flirting and decided to return to her course if possible. “You’re kind of young for a First Minister aren’t you?”

  He grinned again. “I’m thirty, since you ask and, as I said, politics is in my family. I was making speeches when I was knee high.”

  “You poor thing.” She sat up and put her hand over his on her ankle. “Make a little speech for me now, Yaf. Wax eloquent on how beautiful and fascinating I am.”

  “Talk about being forward.”

  “It comes with being a Princess, sirrah. Now, your honeyed words, if you please.”

  Yaf leaned towards her. “Look into my eyes.”

  She pulled back. “Oh, no way, that’s cheating.”

  “As you wish,” and he fixed her with the power of his eyes and began.

  “Lovely Simla, may I say,

  You entrance, in every way,

  Your coal black hair, your pale green eyes,

  Call from me adoring sighs,

  I love your wit, your angel smile,

  For those I’d walk a thousand miles,

  You are a treasure, this I swear,

  Your lips do call for all my care,

  I have not known you long, my sweet,

  But know this now,

  I shall not retreat.”

  Simla had sunk totally into his eyes and remained fixed there. “If that was rehearsed,” she hissed, “I’ll kill you.”

  He waved his hand before her eyes, breaking the spell. “Every word made up on the spot, I swear.”

  Simla sniffed and raised her chin. “You are a bit of a catch yourself, Mister Alfrick, you’re as handsome as they come, you move like a cat, you’re funny and you can make up a poem at the drop of a hat. Some woman will be lucky to get a hold of you.”

  “As long as it’s you,” he replied, without a trace of humor. He stood up then and, after bowing to her, left her room. Simla lay for a long time thinking about him. Yes, she lusted after him, but this was more than lust. She genuinely, properly, and enthusiastically, liked him. And how far was that step from like to love? Be still, my girlish heart, she laughed to herself and slowly, but slowly, she drifted off into a warm, satisfied, sleep.

  IV

  The Pendoran Battle Cruiser, Robin, hung in the inky sky as their shuttle approached it and Simla was more than disappointed. Yaf had said it was old, but this was nothing but an old rust bucket. Yaf, standing at the viewport with her, seemed to sense her thoughts. “Her engines are in excellent condition, we’ll make good speed.”

  “But there are only four gun-ports,” she complained.

  “We’re going to Jaip to impress, not fire on them.”

  “And you think this pile of junk will impress them?”

  “It’s in better shape than anything they’ve got.”

  “With forces like these what chance do the Riaz have?” she snorted.

  “Ships don’t win battles, men do. And men of Terran stock will not be found wanting.”

  She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Oh, Yaf, sometimes you’re too much the politician for your own good. You sound like a holo news broadcast.”

  He looked sheepish. “Years of habit, I’m afraid. No politician can resist handing out a resounding sound-bite.”

  “That’ll be why you’re not married then. No woman likes to be seduced with sound-bites.”

  “I can manage love-bites as well.”

  “And Shap can knock out teeth as well as break arms.”

  Yaf glanced briefly at Shap before draping an arm over Simla’s shoulder and moving his mouth to her ear. “Shap or no Shap, I intend marrying you, Princess.”

  Simla replied in kind. “You make great leaps, First Minister. From one brief kiss to a proposal of marriage?”

  “You’re my kind of woman, Simla, and I want you.”

  “Shap’s already rejected you.”

  “Ah, my ignoble blood. But my charm shall triumph over Shap’s brawn if you will give me a smile of encouragement.”

  Despite herself she found the corners of her mouth turning up but caught them before they displayed her eagerness. “I am a Terran Princess, First Minister, a rare prize. My genes are uncontaminated by the alien radiations that have blighted my sisters across the other planets. Are you worthy of me?”

  “I shall prove it, sweet Simla. Have faith.” Behind her back and unseen by Shap, Yaf dropped his hand to her behind and squeezed.

  Simla jumped. “I thought Pendorans had a reputation for gallantry, sirrah,” she said in arcane.

  “I am no ordinary Pendoran, as you shall discover.”

  She wondered what he meant as a loud clang announced that they’d docked with the warship and an announcement ordered them to the airlocks. Shap already had her pack, so Simla and he went immediately amidships where the docking ring was located while Yaf had to return to the passenger lounge for his gear.

  When he returned the Captain of the warship was waiting for them at the hatch. An older, broad man with a kind face, he obviously knew Yaf well for he shook his hand warmly. “Some action at last, Yaf. Thank God, I was getting sick of exercises and shooting asteroids.”

  “This is just showing the flag, Ripos, though there may be action ahead. Captain Ripos Thrane, may I introduce Princess Simla of Old Earth.”

  The Captain snapped to attention and gave a smart salute. “It has been long since I met anyone from the first World, milady Simla, welcome aboard the Robin.”

  “She prefers just Simla,” Yaf laughed.

  The older man snorted. “Don’t tell my crew, they thrive on indiscipline. A Princess who wants to be known by her given name rather than her title is just what they need to incite mutiny. I may have to flog a few.”

  “He’s a joker,” Yaf explained to Simla, “and his crew love him like a father.”

  The Captain looked at Shap and said, “Do you want to put the android in the hold, you’ll have no need of him aboard ship.”

  “He’s my guardian and not just a servant,” Simla said.

  “You’ll still have no need of him, you’ll never be in danger on my watch. I may be father to this scum but they won’t have a hair on the head of a Princess of Old Earth come to any harm.”

  Simla decided that actions would speak louder than words. “Captain, even if I ordered Shap to go to the hold, he wouldn’t go. And I wouldn’t advise trying to put him there against his will.”

  He reacted as she expected because he exuded authority and she’d noticed the two armed marines flanking the hatch.

  “There’s only one Captain on this ship, and it’s me,” Captain Thrane growled and nodded to his soldiers. “Put this android in the hold.”

  The two men guessed correctly that they were outmatched physically, so merely lifted their weapons and pointed them at Shap. He responded with an impassive look of defiance.

  “Go to the hold, android, or I’ll order my men to fire,” the Captain said menacingly. Shap remained unmoved. “Go to the hold, or I’ll have you hauled there in chains.” Shap still didn’t move.

  “You are one foolish machine man,” the Captain breathed, “Fire!”

  Shafts of dazzling light burst from the weapons and bathed Shap in a fluorescent glow, but when the marines released their triggers there wasn’t a scratch on him.

  “What in the name of all that’s holy …” the Captain roared, reaching for his own side-arm.

  Simla put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Don’t bother, Captain, you could launch Shap at a sun and he’d just swim right through,” she exaggerated, “A new alloy, developed on Old Earth. Apologies for my little demonstration of his capabilities.”

  The Captain grinned and ran a hand over Shap’s unmarked skin. “Accepted, accepted. But this is marvellous. I want a ship made out of what he’s made of.”

  “And you shall have one,” Simla said, “Can we go somewhere so I can brief you?”


  “Come, my cabin.” He turned to his troops. “Hand in those sparklers for pen knives, boys, for all the good they are. And send word to the bridge to get under way.”

  In the Captain’s opulent cabin Simla reclined on a couch and explained the situation to the grizzled old space-farer.

  “The Riaz?” he said wearily, “There have been legends of intelligent aliens for years but too long in space tends you to that kind of thinking. After a thousand years of galactic exploration I thought we’d seen it all, but we’ve never encountered anything but savages.”

  “As we were thousands of years ago, “ Yaf protested, “and the Bron are showing signs of developing technology.”

  “But to encounter a race as smart as us … smarter, in this vast galaxy, it’s not what the scientists predicted.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Simla said calmly, “It has happened and the Riaz exist and threaten us.”

  “We’ll give ‘em hell.”

  “We’re not ready,” Yaf said, “and that’s why Simla is on this voyage across the Twelve Worlds, to warn all of humanity and give us time to prepare.”

  “How much time do we have?” the old Captain asked.

  Simla sat up. “Our probes encountered them 400 light years from the solar system of Old Earth. That was at the fringes of their domain. It depends how much they want what we have and how prepared they are for war.”

  “And there’s no doubt they’ll come?”

  “None, they are voracious. They eat up planets and their inhabitants, even entire solar systems like a mouthful. We can’t guarantee they’ve never encountered another intelligent species, as they claimed. Encountered them and devoured them.”

  “They’ll find the Twelve Worlds hard to swallow.”

  “Everywhere I hear the same thing, Captain. Proud words but no action.”

  Yaf calmed her by patting her hand. “Patience, Simla, it will take time for the Worlds to move, but when they do, I believe we can match any foe.”

  Captain Thrane stood and donned his cap. “I think I know enough then. A tour of the ship perhaps?”