He released her breast and trailed kisses up her neck. "You are to enjoy yourself."

"I would enjoy touching you too."

''Next time."

"There'll be a next time?"

"We have tonight," he murmured. "All right. And for your first time. I want you to think only about the pleasure I can give you."

"Okay."

He lifted her b.r.e.a.s.t.s until she overflowed his hands then flicked the nipples with his thumbs, creating a sizzle that caused her hips to squirm, "You like this?"

"Yes."

He plucked her nipples between thumb and index finger. "And this?"

"Yes... but..." She could do nothing, only take whatever he decided to give.

He plucked them again, causing the throbbing between her thighs to increase tenfold. "But?"

She licked her lips, uneasy. "I can't decide if... ah... ah..."

"If what?" He laved away the smarting with his tongue.

"If this is pain or pleasure."

" You want me to stop?"

"No."

She'd raised her voice and he chuckled, wickedly tweaking her nipples again.

"There's a fine line between pleasure and pain."

"I feel so wanton. All achy... empty."

"Good." The satisfaction in his tone made her hunger for more of his loving. And finally, he stepped back and removed his loincloth. His tavis jutted proudly, thick and hard and ready.

She was too educated to wonder if he would fit. Her synthari would stretch to accommodate him. And she was so damp with her own moisture, she was certain he was going to slide his tavis inside her with ease. Instead he held his tavis at the thick base and rubbed the tip ever her parted lips. She hadn't known anything could be so hard and soft at the same time or feel so absolutely awesome. The shock of his flesh rubbing her so intimately almost rocked her off the table.

His hand on her thigh steadied her. Her muscles were gathering, tightening, like a crossbow drawn too tight and about to snap. Her breath came in great gulps and then...

the most marvelous sensations burst through her, a series of o.r.g.a.s.ms so intense, so hard, that a scream ripped from her throat. And it kept on and on, like one of those fireworks that shot higher and higher as it exploded again and again. And all the while, he kept rubbing her, milking her body of gasp after gasp of pure pleasure.

She had no idea exactly when the o.r.g.a.s.ms ceased, but eventually she realized he'd exchanged his fingers for his tavis inside her and held perfectly still, allowing her body 145.

to become accustomed to him. Without hesitation, welcoming his fullness, she wrapped her legs around his hips. She grabbed is neck for extra support. His hands clenched her bottom and then he pulled back his hips, thrust back into her. Hard.

"Yes," She groaned into his ear, a new tension already building. And this time she didn't look back. Trusting him not to drop her, trusting him to instinctively know what she wanted, she simply held on. She was slick, ready. And his angle of insertion and extraction caused a lovely friction exactly where she needed it most.

His bands clenched her bottom. His breath blew raggedly by her ear, fanning her neck, and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rubbed against his chest, the sensitive tips so tender, so connected to her, that when she exploded once again, her muscles fired, then collapsed, utterly spent. If not for Zical's strong hands around her, she would have fallen.

And still her Rystani warrior was not done. His stamina amazed her, worried her that she might not be his match. But then he braced her spine against the cool wall. And suddenly, magically, she was tensing all over again. The cool hardness of the wall contrasting with the beat of him against her chest, hips, and thighs not only revived her spinning senses but oddly cooled her down enough to heat up again.

She lost count of the o.r.g.a.s.ms. One blended into another until she lost all sense of self. She no longer knew where her body began and his ended. To her they were one.

And when he finally spasmed into her, the surge of him triggered a flood of feelings.

Joy. Contentment. Satiation. And an overwhelming need to hold him close and never let go.

Dora never had much recollection of Zical's tying her sarong around her hips, his donning of his loincloth before he carried her from the conference room to the bathing room to his quarters. He'd lowered her to her feet and Dora didn't come back to herself until cool water rained down on both of them. Stunned by the experience, she gave up trying to the right words.

Instead, she placed her arms around him, tilted back her head and smiled. "Thank you."

He chuckled and soaped up a soft cloth, his grin teasing. "Dora, I'm not done with you yet."

Kirek's new friends didn't try to sneak past carnival security, so neither did he, although he could have easily slipped past the machines guarding the front entrance.

While he didn't want to waste his limited credits, he also didn't wish to attract the attention of Lew and his peers, preferring to appear as if he were one of them.

So far, Kirek mostly kept his mouth shut and listened. He'd picked up a surprising amount of information during their morning walk through the town to the city center.

The had very different sections, those of wealth, Risorians, who according to his new friends sat around improving their spiritual nature in order to attain high positions in the afterlife. And Selgrens, poor workers who didn't believe in any G.o.d and spent their free time in pleasurable pursuits.

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Apparently Selgrens and Risorians didn't mix socially. City center was Selgren territory and the surrounding parks nature trails were for those of a more spiritual nature, who sought to improve their bodies through ritual exercises cleanse their mind with music.

Kirek had expected the carnival to be a roving group of entertainers like the acrobats, jugglers, and trained animals his parents had taken him to see on Mystique.

But this carnival occupied a permanent location in Baniken's city center.

The pink rock exterior of the main building matched the other nearby buildings. Yet Kirek heard the boys, talking about how the Risorians, the orthodox faction of deeply religious Kwadii, wanted to close the carnival down, but so far the Selgrens had mustered enough popular support to keep the entertainment centers open.

"Son of a Kinatti sand worm," Lev cursed, grabbing Kirek by the arm and tugging him through the large crowd of adults at the entrance. "If yon stand there dawdling, we'll never reach the games."

"Games?" To Kirek the carnival seemed like a haven for every kind of vice he'd ever heard about, and many he hadn't. Specific areas catered to s.e.xual needs, and although his curiosity at the profundity of variations spiked, his parents would not have approved of his exploring those sections where one could purchase everything from prost.i.tution to erotic fantasies to s.e.xual scenarios for those with more unusual tastes. Although Kirek's IQ was off the scale, his parents lovingly protected him as they would have any Rystani child. And while he had the curiosity of an adult, his s.e.xual inclinations were dictated by the biology of a four-year-old child. So he didn't mind exploring the game section.

"Last time I was here. I won twenty credits on Galactic War Five."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we splurged on holovids for a week," Lew bragged. "Sucked down breen burgers and all the vips we could drink."

"Awesome."

With enthusiasm Lew whirled Kirek around a corner and through a double set of doors into a vast, dark room with hundreds of holographic games, seemingly all making noise at once. Kirek's first instinct was to clap his hands over his ears to m.u.f.fle the din. But that wouldn't have been acceptable, and be needed to fit in with these Kwadii to avoid suspicion.

"Over here," Lew shouted to be heard over the din of shooting weapons, gongs, whistles, and applause, all coming from the players, their audiences, and the machines.

Lew stopped in front of a gaming device, reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit chip. He real the balance then slowly replaced the chip in his pocket with a soulful shake of his head. "I'll watch."

Kirek placed his chip in the slot, then gestured to Lew. "Show me how it's done."

Lew whooped with, joy and pumped his fist, then settled behind the controls. Kirek quickly saw that while the game sported sophisticated sound and sensors, the goal was 147.

quite simple. Kill as many of the bad guys as possible in the shortest amount of time. To avoid too many winners, the level became increasingly difficult, upping the stakes and the risk of losing one's credits.

Lew concentrated, moving through the first few levels with ease. He'd almost won back his wager when enemy fire nailed him. He kicked the mechanism and the machine warned him that violence was prohibited. Reluctantly, he turned over the machine to Kirek.

His hands barely fit on the controls. And he had to stretch his fingers to reach all the b.u.t.tons. When the machine recycled and started the game, Kirek had several close calls on the first level, but that was due to his testing his psi against the machine's trigger points.

Once he understood the high-risk points, the places where the game kicked in to take advantage of the player, he exerted a little psi pressure. And whap. He was moving through the levels like an expert, putting aside his conscience, telling himself that Etru would understand his need to "cheat" with his enhanced psi to earn credits.

"Hey, guys." Lew excitedly called the others over to watch Kirek's game "He's an expert."

"Who would have thought the skinny little kid's fingers could go so fast," said one of the boys behind Kirek, his voice filed with awe.

Kirek hadn't realised how fast he would draw a crowd. He should stop, but he hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Other kids usually thought him odd. He wasn't so much as accepted, never mind admired. And it was only a game with a bunch of kids. He didn't see the harm in playing, in using his psi to help him get past the codes that prevented big winners. The game was rigged so cheat these boys of their credits. It wouldn't hurt the owners to suffer a little payback.

Then bells started ringing above his head and hologram fireworks burst around him, he realized he'd beat the game. Lew grabbed his hands and danced, jumping up and down, his voice jubilant, his eyes merry. "You won. You won. You won. That was great. You are evil, man. Evil."

"Thanks." Apparently "evil" was a compliment, and Kirek spoke quietly as the other boys wandered back to their own games. Lew plucked his credit clip out of the machine and handed it to Kirek. He was about to put it into his pocket, when the numbers on the chip caught his eyes. He'd started with ten credits. He had four more zeros beyond the ten.

He hadn't expected the payoff to be so large. He also hadn't considered that such a rare win would draw attention-the wrong kind. He should have won in smaller amounts, slowly building his stake. Instead, he'd made himself a target for theft, a target for the authorities.

Kirek's former excitement turned to ashes and left a bitter taste of fear in his mouth.

He really should have been more careful and he vowed to exercise better judgment in 148.

the future. Although no harm seemed to have been done, he had an uneasy feeling, a p.r.i.c.kle at the back of his neck that suggested someone might be watching.

Grabbing Lew's hand, he tugged him from the games. "Let's eat I'm starved."

Lew didn't protest and together they strode toward a huge room filled with vendors hawking a variety of foods. The delicious aromas of cooked meats and spicy sauces filled the air. They stopped and bought pastries filled with sweet meats and sharp cheese and guzzled a fizzy orange drink that quenched Kirek's thirst but left him wondering if it had any nutritional value. But the feeling in his gut that he was still being watched was his largest concern, until he spied a poster on the wall.

The poster was an advertis.e.m.e.nt that included a likeness of two people he recognised. Dora and Zical.

Stars.

Kirek left Lew and zigzagged through the crowds to the poster. Without wondering if he was committing an Illegal act, he ripped it from the wall. A security guard shouted at him and Kirek wadded up the paper and rammed it into his pocket.

"Run." Lew saw the problem. He could have left Kirek but he didn't. Kirek would have liked to think Lew was helping him out of loyalty and friendship but suspected it was for the credit chip in his pocket that had Lew risking his neck for his new acquaintance.

However, Kirek willingly accepted help where it was offered. Lew knew the territory. This was his home ground and he led Kirek on a run through a warren of hallways until they lost the guard and stopped to catch their breaths. Kirek pulled the paper from his pocket and smoothed out the wrinkles. He couldn't read Kwadii.

"What's it say?"

Lew summarized. "It's an advertis.e.m.e.nt to watch the trial and execution of traitors."

"Execution? The sweet meats and Orange fizz in Kirek's stomach churned. The Kwadii meant to execute his friends. As his throat tightened with fear and grief, he fought to keep down his lunch. "How long until-"

"It's tomorrow. Want to go watch?"

Chapter Fourteen.

Silence filled the hover as Zical, Dora his entire crew, and the scientists boarded.

Since their capture, and even on their way to their trial and execution, Zical had continued his search for a means of escape. But the Kwadii soldiers escorting them held so many weapons aimed at them that attempt to flee would be met with instant death.

During the last two days, Zical had learned that that the Kwadii obeyed orders with fanatical adherence and didn't miss security details, using technical superiority to back up alert and conscientious guards.

Locked inside the windowless hover, Zical sat beside Dora, his mood somber despite his pleasurable night. Dora might not have been experienced when he'd begun making love to her, but she certainly was now. She'd been exceptionally creative and enthusiastic and their lovemaking 1 had taken his mind off his failed mission for the duration of night. But the experience had been bittersweet. The relaxation hadn't created any brilliant new ideas, as he'd hoped, and now the woman he'd grown to care far wouldn't live through the day.

Neither would his crew. Vax would never return home his aging parents.

Shannon's brood of children and grandchildren would never know how she'd tried to keep up everyone's spirits. And Cyn, a credit to her heritage, would never be heralded as a heroine, her name in he hall of Scartar's bravest. All of their hopes and dreams, plus those of the Federation, were about to die with them. And failure weighed heavily on Zical.

He'd failed to right the sequence of events he'd put in motion. He'd failed to keep his crew alive. And worse, if the Kwadii were correct, their effort may have caused more harm, their journey through hypers.p.a.ce may have created a trail for the Zin to follow straight back to the Federation.

Yet Zical was not about to give up. As long as his heart beat, he would seek a way to escape, to save his people and the Mission.

Dora broke the silence with a quiet manner in his ear. Ranth's alive."

"How do you know? Can he help us?" Tamping down his, Zical turned to her, and the others started talking quietly among themselves, leaving them a coc.o.o.n of privacy.

She shrugged and her face clouded with wonder and confusion. "I've been reaching into the vault with my psi."

"Vault?"

150.

"When we were still in hypers.p.a.ce, at the first sign of danger from the Kwadii, Ranth locked himself away in a safe house that I call 'the vault.' When I tapped in, I sensed he might be there, but I didn't have the strength to contact him."

"So how is it possible that you can reach Ranth now? You aren't plugged on."

Zical's hopes flared. If she could contact Ranth, the powerful computer might help them escape.

Dora shrugged. "We've always known that psi power is connected to s.e.xual activity."