The President's Daughter

It had been so close; by all rights they should have been killed. Zeeona smiled a little to herself as she methodically started the process of clearing the base of the invading organism.. There had been so many problems, so little chance, yet now she had always known, somehow, that things would work out between her and Tarrant. In another hour, she would have earned her place with Avon's crew, and nothing further would stand between them. Yes, they'd all been lucky, but herself most of all. If she hadn't been working in the lab that day, when her father was giving his visitors the tour...

She had been experimenting with a new cellular regeneration compound that had taken months to develop, and was wholly absorbed in her work until the commotion from the main lab area distracted her assistant and caused him to ruin a sample. Annoyed at first, she then heard her father's voice and remembered his earlier instructions concerning the impending visitors. She composed herself to play the role that so ill suited her: the President's daughter, charming and diplomatic, with no opinions of her own. She sighed as she hung up her lab coat, thinking of the afternoon that was sure to be wasted if her father decided that she was to accompany his guests.

Threading her way through the hustle and bustle of the busy labs to join her father's party, Zeeona stepped back to clear the way for two men carrying a particularly bulky piece of equipment. An unnoticed cable caused her to lose her balance, and as she stumbled backwards her body impacted softly against another. Steadying hands on her shoulders set her back firmly on her feet. She turned around to apologize and found herself looking up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

"Hello," said the vision, flashing her a dazzling smile. "Zukan didn't tell me I'd be bumping into any beautiful lady scientists. Are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm not usually so clumsy." He was a real charmer, no doubt about that. Probably knew it, too. But she couldn't have helped smiling back, even if she'd wanted to. Which she didn't. "Are you one of Avon's people?"

"He’d like to think so. My name's Del. Del Tarrant." He pulled her towards him as another group struggled through the narrow aisle, and held her pressed tightly against him for a few seconds rather longer and ever so slightly closer than the situation warranted. She looked up into his innocent expression, not quite sure whether to be annoyed or amused. She decided to be flattered. His smile broadened. "This doesn't seem to be the best place for introductions, though."

Zeeona laughed and took a half step away from him. "No, not today at least. But my name is...”

"Her name is Zeeona." Tarrant turned at the sound of Avon's voice and saw the older man and the Betafarlian leader approaching them. "She is Zukan's daughter."

Avon he'd been a problem from the first. She could almost see him looking over her shoulder as she initiated the decontamination procedure. He’d discounted her from the first, and now saw her as a liability. But she didn't mind proving herself, even though the others seemed willing to accept her simply for Tarrant's sake, which was not rational. Once she'd decontaminated the base and thereby passed Avon's initiation rite, maybe the computer expert would listen to her ideas on manufacturing the Pylene 50 antidote. She knew she was a damn good biogenetic engineer, possibly the best Avon could find, and she had the advantage of being close to hand. Avon would have to accept her once he saw her worth.

It wasn't as though he had anything against her, personally, at least that she could tell. He was generally cordial enough. But she remained an outsider to him, and the warmth he’d occasionally displayed towards her on Betafarl had disappeared entirely. She suspected he’d been using her to further the cause of the alliance. The exchanges between herself and Tarrant, on the other hand, were straightforwardly between a man and a woman, and had nothing to do with politics.

In a way, she had more problems dealing with Tarrant than with Avon; Avon's reasoning was more like her own or like her father's. But Tarrant ... She generally disliked being thought of as a woman first and a scientist second and some of Tarrant's attitudes needed adjustment but for now, she was happy. She was reacting with her heart and not her head, she knew, but as long as she continued to think her reactions through, and understood what she was committing herself to well, there was more to life than science.

The memory of her mother saying those very words to her many years earlier remained with Zeeona as she monitored the makeshift link up of machines to which she was entrusting her future, and that of Xenon base.

Zeeona looked at herself appraisingly in the mirror as she dressed for dinner, not displeased with what she saw. She did not usually trouble much with her appearance, especially since her mother's death. Most of her wardrobe was selected for its practicality rather than for aesthetic reasons. But she occasionally served as her father's hostess, and he insisted that her wardrobe contain several garments suitable for occasions such as this. The simple white tunic and pants she now wore, while not "fashionable" even in this backwater, set off her figure and skin tone quite well. Out of the corner of her eye she detected movement, and turned to meet the amused glance of her oldest friend and putative lady in waiting, Janelle.

"Something is funny?" Zeeona glared at her friend for a moment, then turned back to the mirror, applying the finishing touches to her make up.

"Not at all. I was just remembering the discussion we had last week about your father, and state dinners, and having to be nice to every lowly representative from every insignificant little planet that your father has business with. Obviously the treaty with this...”

"Avon."

“ ... Avon must be very important for you to be going to all this trouble." The darker girl looked very serious, and took up a brush to work on her mistress' hair, coaxing it into the accepted style for high born Betafarlian ladies.

"It is. An alliance against the Federation could mean a great deal to the unaligned worlds, like Betafarl: increased trade, an exchange of ideas, technology, and culture, not to mention the defensive benefits. I have tried to persuade father, but..."

"Surely he must know the advantages as well as you do. Maybe there's something else."

Zeeona swiveled in her chair and caught her friend's hand. "I suspect so, although he will not say. He is planning something. Something secret.”

Janelle smiled, and set down the brush. "My, aren't we serious tonight. Might this have anything to do with that young pilot?"

Zeeona turned away and pretended to search through a drawer for something. "Tarrant? What has he to do with it?

The older girl saw the sly glance through dark lashes, and the hidden grin. "That's what I want to know, Zee. What's going on?"

Dropping her pretense, Zeeona turned back, smiling, to face her questioner. "Nothing, Janni, really. We've barely exchanged three words."

"Oh, yes? What words?"

Zukan's daughter replied without hesitation. "Tonight. After dinner."

They both laughed, and Janelle helped her friend fasten a gemstone pendant around her neck. "Well, it's time you enjoyed yourself a little but then, he's not very little, is he?"

Zeeona tossed an ornate crystal atomizer at her companion in mock horror. "Janelle! Try to remember your place!"

They left the room, laughing.

Zeeona’s mind wandered a little from the task in hand, the procedures being so well known as to be nearly automatic. She had been careful to think of her father in only the most abstract of terms since his betrayal of her and the alliance. She had loved Zukan, but was under no illusions about her place in his life. At home, she'd been a pawn, temporarily allowed some freedom but destined to be used to cement some advantageous political alliance. It was more important that she be respectable than that she be happy. She suspected that proud as her father was of her scientific achievements, he would have been happier with some pretty, biddable little scatter brain who'd obey him without question as her mother had.

That wasn't fair, of course. Her mother had freely chosen to subordinate herself and her people to Zukan. That alliance had united her planet, and brought Betafarl the first lasting internal peace it had known. But her mother's submissiveness came more easily to that lady's yielding nature than it ever could to her daughter. The Lady Leana had always said that Zeeona favored her father in temperament. She was far from the ideal daughter; she was hopeless at small talk, fashion, and dancing in fact, the only interest she was ever able to share with her mother was the garden, where Leana had allowed her young daughter to practice experimental botany to her heart's content. But despite her mother's endless patience, love and understanding, Zeeona’s attempts to conform were sporadic and unsuccessful. The loss of that gentle influence had meant the end of Zeeona’s behaving in a "proper" manner at least until she was old enough to see the benefits of staying in her father's good graces. And very occasionally her own plans and her father's coincided, and she enjoyed playing a part in his plans. She had had such great expectations for the alliance, and as for seeing Tarrant again...

Zukan had been pleased with his daughter's good mood, but it soon became apparent that the dinner would be merely a continuation of the fencing sessions that had been going on throughout the day between Avon and the Betafarlian. Zeeona, when she allowed herself, grudgingly admired her father's skill at this sort of political give and take, but the proposed alliance was very close to her heart, and she wasn't being allowed to have any say in the matter, as usual. Not that she was the only one. The other invited dignitaries, mostly minor Betafarlian nobility, ate in silence. And across the table from her, she saw Tarrant trying to stifle a yawn, and knew that he must be feeling as frustrated and useless as she. He had tried several times to contribute to the discussion, but had been continually rebuffed until he finally subsided from quite visible and barely controlled anger, through sullen withdrawal, to pure boredom. Zeeona watched him with interest. He was unlike any of the other off world men she had met. She had disliked many of them, been fascinated by several, and had loved one. But Jenslov was in the past. And Tarrant would be, too, if she didn't do something soon.

The pilot looked up to see her watching him, and smiled a little, conspiratorially. That decided her. Rising, Zeeona excused herself and exited into the gardens, the closing of the double doors behind her cutting off her father's abstracted good night. As she had hoped, Tarrant joined her on the shaded path a few minutes later. She turned at the sound of his footsteps and waited for him.

They strolled for a while in companionable silence, then Tarrant reached up to touch a blossom on a low hanging branch. "This is all so beautiful. Not what I expected of ... Betafarl."

"You were going to say 'Zukan’?" The formality of her bearing relaxed, and she smiled at him. "Well, you are right. The garden was my mother's province. She was a very warm, gentle person. She loved beautiful things."

"She must have loved her daughter very much, then." She smiled at his gallantry, and he plucked the flower and hesitantly placed it in her hair. "It's a shame we can't see it by moonlight." He looked at the young woman standing next to him. "It doesn't seem like night time without the darkness, somehow, although I guess that's just a prejudice. A silly prejudice for a PSA pilot, since on shipboard night is purely arbitrary, anyway. But I do love the night sky. Don't you?"

She smiled a little, ruefully. "How can I love what I've never known?"

"Haven't you ever been off Betafarl, then?"

"No, never." They had approached a bench and now sat, facing each other. "I wanted to several times, especially when I outgrew the schools here, but father is very protective of me. Not that he denies me anything, really," she added quickly, as he seemed prepared to commiserate with her. "When I could learn no more from my tutors, he brought in new ones, all first rate. But I would love to work with other scientists, learn from them, share my ideas. There are advances being made in biogenetics... “ She took a breath, and laughed a little at herself. "I am sorry to bore you with my little problems. They must seem so petty to you."

He smiled at her, that damned smile that made the ground drop out from under her feet. "Not at all. I've heard a great deal about Betafarl's top biogeneticist. Not that I know anything about the field. I'm afraid the only sciences I'm familiar with deal directly with piloting or maintaining aircraft."

"It must be fascinating, though, being a pilot and fighting the Federation. The only excitement I get is the occasional fight with my father which I always lose. Sometimes I just want to scream... “ She was embarrassed at her outburst, but he smiled and took her hand, squeezing it a little in sympathy. She revised still further her opinion of this handsome young man, who'd seemed so self confident and self centered. "And as you can tell, I get few opportunities to talk to outsiders. Now, tell me about your group."

"What do you want to know?" he asked laughingly, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"Anything. Everything." They rose and began to walk again, and he released her hand. "Are there any women in your group?"

"Yes, indeed: two. There's Dayna, she's a weapons expert, and Soolin, a gunfighter. A very good gunfighter," he added at her questioning look. "The only other crewmember is Vila. He's a thief. And Avon, of course."

"Yes, Avon. Tell me about him. I do not understand him, I think.”

"Don't worry. Neither do the rest of us. Except maybe Vila. But me least of all. In case you hadn't noticed, Avon and I aren't exactly close."

"I did notice; I suspect everyone did. Why does he treat you like that, in front of strangers? It belittles not only you, but him." Tarrant shrugged, and Zeeona continued. "Is he always like that?"

"More or less." He watched the ground as they walked, occasionally kicking a small pebble and sending it off into the shrubbery.

"Then why bring you with him? Can't he fly the ship?"

"I wish I knew the answer to that. Not the last part he's perfectly capable of piloting the 'Scorpio.' But his behavior over the last few weeks has been strange. He's been treating me as nearly an equal, or at least acting like he realized that I wasn't a complete idiot, which is a definite change. I've been left in charge while he arranged details of his meetings with representatives from the border systems, my decisions have been accepted, my advice has even been sought incredible as it seemed at the time. I think maybe he wanted to give the impression that he was the leader of very capable group of people; one man alone, even one of Avon's alleged genius, has limited worth as an ally. Then when he planned this visit to Betafarl, he acted like it was understood that I would come along, that I was a necessary part of the plans." The confusion in his voice turned to bitterness. "But once we'd gotten here, it was 'run along and play, Tarrant,' just like before. I don't know how much more I can take."

They had stopped walking and now the young pilot stood still, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Her heart went out to this confused, hurt young man, and she impulsively took both of his hands in hers, offering her silent sympathy. Finally he took a deep breath and looked into her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. He just managed to find a new way to get to me. I'll adapt, I always do." His smile was bleak.

"Why should you? Why do you stay with him?"

"I've nowhere else to go," his tone was matter of fact, "Not now. Besides, I have to see this through. This alliance it's very important to us."

"Yes, and to Betafarl also, and to all of the border systems. None of us have a chance against the Federation individually.”

"Then why does your father hesitate? Is he holding out for better terms, or is there another factor that we don't know about?"

Zukan's daughter looked troubled. "I don't know, Tarrant. I wish I did. Cooperation does not come easily to him, but I know he realized the vulnerability of our position. Still, there is his pride." She shook her head, sadly.

"You don't have to tell me about pride, or stubbornness. We're not short of those qualities either. But if you could try to convince your father… “

“I will do my best. It is to all of our advantages, not to be alone in this fight."

They resumed their interrupted walk, strolling back towards the residence without speaking. Zeeona felt a growing sense of urgency, of something needing to be said but she didn't know what. Things were moving too fast.

The pilot stopped abruptly and looked down at her. "Alone. I know the feeling. It would be so nice not to be alone, anymore."

"Tarrant...”

As she turned towards him, he pulled her into his arms and held her close for a long but gentle kiss. When he drew back a little and looked at her, questioningly, she smiled and drew his head back down to hers.

They were interrupted by the sound of voices, very near. "My father! Tarrant, they're coming out. I'll have to go. He would not be pleased to find us here. Nor would Avon, I imagine."

"A minor understatement." He kissed her again, quickly, then put his arms around her and just held her for several heartbeats. She was quiet in his embrace until he murmured into her ear, "Zeeona, we're leaving tomorrow."

She pulled back slightly to look at his face. "Tomorrow! Tarrant, I... “ The voices were very near to them now and she reluctantly broke the embrace and walked quickly away. He stood unmoving and watched her disappear into a side entrance.

Zeeona wished she could see her chronometer, but it was under the bulky protective suit that she'd have to wear for some time yet. It seemed like she'd been on the base, alone, for hours. Never to be alone again that's what they'd promised each other, albeit implicitly. And yet she'd been more alone than ever in the last few weeks. Janelle couldn't really help her with her decision to leave Betafarl, and Tarrant couldn't help her now. But now the decisions were made, the die cast, and the waiting nearly over and not a moment too soon for her. Patience had never been one of her virtues.

Janelle grabbed her friend in exasperation. "Yes, I know, you're in love. It was bound to happen sooner or later, even to you. But be reasonable. A little fun and games in the gardens last week... “

"It was more than that!" Zeeona wrenched her arm out of her friend's grip and resumed packing her carryall.

"Maybe to you, but not to him."

"You don't know that."

"Nor do you know otherwise. Zee," she cut off the other woman's reply, "you don't know anything about him. He's from another world, another way of life. How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not sure, Janni. Not at all. That's why I have to go." Zukan's daughter sat down heavily on her bed.

"I understand." This was the closest thing to a chink in Zeeona's barriers that Janelle had been permitted to see, and she immediately carried followed it up, sitting down next to her friend and putting her arm around the younger woman's shoulders. "But please think about what you're doing. I've seen his type before, you know. You haven't. He probably has women on half a dozen planets, at least." Her tone was light, but sincere. "He doesn't mean to hurt any of you, he's just out to enjoy himself."

"He's not like that at all although he pretends. There's something, well, innocent about him."

"Oh, Zeeona, really! You aren't that naive. Maybe he really believes that he feels something for you. That type often does; it eases their consciences. Their sincerity can catch you off guard." Janelle's tone changed from bantering to bitter, as her arguments became more personal. "But no matter their motives, you're still being used. And when they leave and you know they always do well, remember Jenslov."

"That was entirely different. And I was just a child then, Janni, and I took too much for granted. Now I'm a woman." Zeeona remained seated, but turned away and resumed packing.

"And you know very little more than you did then. You have no experience in this sort of thing. You've spent all of your adult life absorbed in your work, by your own choice. Now you're paying the price. Zeeona, listen to me." Janelle waited for her friend to look at her. "Even assuming that this Tarrant does love you, what are you going to do about it? Be practical, darling. An affair is out of the question, even if you could manage it behind your father's back. It would be impossible to arrange and besides, you're just not the type. And you certainly can't marry him. He's a criminal, probably a smuggler and a mercenary from what I hear. Your father would never hear of it." Janni stood up, and put her hands on her hips, speaking vehemently. "And stowing away on the 'Lodestar' is simply crazy!”

Zeeona rose as well, and spoke softly. “Oh, Janni, don't you think I know all that? I'm sorry to upset you, but you must see that I HAVE to find out." She looked into the other woman's eyes, trying to convince her of the inevitableness of the decision. "I must know, not just how he feels, but how I feel, what it means. Since he left, I haven't been able to do anything but think about him. Mentally, physically, emotionally he's taken over my life."

"Zee, that's not love!" Janelle interrupted. "It's an obsession, a reaction against the way you've been living. You've denied yourself too much, too long. Tarrant just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"You are not listening. Think about it! This is me—practical, dependable, logical Zeeona. I cannot work, or sleep, or even eat. I can only just manage to behave normally around my father. Whether or not this is love, I have to know. To continue like this is impossible."

Janelle stared at her friend for a minute, then sighed resignedly. "All right. I should have known by now that once you've set your heart on something ... “ She raised one eyebrow, quizzically, and chuckled at herself. "Interesting choice of words, Janni. But anyway, I don't suppose you tried asking your father if you could accompany him?"

"Of course I did. He was adamant. Called then 'that gang of criminals' and said that Avon was a cynical, opportunistic bastard and Tarrant foolish, hot headed and not to be trusted."

"He has a point. But," Janelle continued over the impending objection, "I'll cover your absence as best I can. You will come back, won't you?"

Zeeona hugged her oldest friend. "Of course!"

Zukan's daughter checked the level of radioactivity in the air for what seemed the hundredth time. The neutron bombarder was filtering out the virus, but she was wary of increasing the power due to the machine's instability and so it was operating at far less than capacity.

Examining the gauges that monitored the functioning of each piece of equipment, Zeeona satisfied herself that the base was being decontaminated as quickly as was safely possible. She looked around in the semi darkness, remembering the first time she'd been in this room, only a few days, or a lifetime, ago.

She had seen him immediately, of course, long before he had noticed her. She was so afraid of this meeting, and she'd thought of nothing else for days. Tarrant was threading his way through the half uncrated machinery, a poised and very pretty blonde at his side. Dayna or Soolin?, she wondered with a stab of what she recognized as jealousy, as she bent her head back to the clipboard she carried. As he came nearer, she half held her breath, still not quite sure whether she wanted him to see her or pass by without noticing. Finally, she felt eyes on her and looked up to see the couple approaching. Tarrant began speaking from across the room.

"If all this is a result of your intercession, we're grateful."

"My father required no intercession from me." She put down her papers and walked up to the couple. "Your own case was so strong he knew that in the end he couldn't afford not to respond."

"Some response," the blonde interjected, smiling.

"In war or friendship, my father is never less than whole-hearted." She looked inquiringly at the other woman.

"Zeeona Soolin." Tarrant indicated his amused fellow crew member. "Maybe you'd like to take Zeeona to the crew room."

"Thank you, but I think it might be better if I stayed here to help." Now that the moment was actually upon her, Zeeona was unsure of how to begin, what to say.

"Zukan's daughter carrying boxes?"

Soolin's grin was good-humoured, and Zeeona responded in kind. "I'm a biogenetic engineer. I work with this kind of equipment all the time. I thought I could help to put it together." The blonde looked too sharp to believe that, but it was the best she could offer.

It was Tarrant, however, who wouldn't drop the subject. "We're unlikely to be ready for that today, so why not let Soolin show you to your father's quarters?"

This was it then. "He ... he doesn't know I'm here. I came aboard the freighter ... out of curiousity, I suppose. I hope to go back the same way. Without him knowing I've been here."

Tarrant was puzzled. "Would it matter if he did?"

"I think he might be displeased."

"And no doubt he's as wholehearted in his displeasure as in everything else." There was no doubt about it, Soolin didn't miss much.

While the two women sized each other up, Tarrant's mind turned to more practical matters. "You can't stay here. There are video scanners that can be switched through to the conference chamber." He turned and walked toward the exit.

Soolin smiled, conspiratorially. "Better come with me. We don't want to upset our principal ally and benefactor now, do we?" She followed Tarrant out.

Zeeona paused a moment, undecided, then went with them.

Later, as she and Soolin watched the conference from the crew room, she tried to keep her mind on the advantages of the treaty they were working out. But the blonde was inquisitive, and very sharp. She didn't seem satisfied with Zeeona's evasive answers, but was friendly enough, anyway. If she guessed Zeeona's true motives for coming to Xenon, she seemed not to mind. Possibly the obvious closeness between Tarrant and the beautiful gunfighter was indeed only that of crew members who had been through a great deal together. If she were, or had been, the pilot's lover, would she try so hard to make the stranger feel at ease? Not knowing Soolin or the situation on the base, Zeeona had nothing on which to make a judgment, yet she almost-instinctively liked the other woman.

After Soolin left her, the President's daughter tried to sort though her tangled thoughts and emotions. She had no idea what to do next. She was sure of her own feelings now, but Tarrant’s? Held certainly made no declarations, but then there'd hardly been an opportunity. Possibly in a few days' time...

Restlessly pacing around the room, Zeeona switched on the monitor in time to hear her father's request that Tarrant make a run to Betafarl in the 'Scorpio.' So much for those few days. Once again, she and Tarrant would be parted before anything could be said. If he didn't make his intentions clear now...

But when he did come, he only offered to take her home in secret. She knew she should simply accept, and be grateful for his consideration and the fact that she hadn't made a fool of herself. She could return home, having lost nothing.

And gained nothing. Something in his eyes made her hesitate. Resignation, and something more. Disappointment? "We'll sort out how to get you aboard in the morning."

She had to stop him, had to be sure. "Would you like to know why I really came?"

He hesitated a moment, then turned to face her.

"Oh, it's true, I thought I could help with installing the equipment. And it's true that I was curious about all of you—the kind of people you are, the way you live. But most of all...” He wasn't giving her any clue. He looked so perplexed and uncertain that she suddenly wasn't sure she'd interpreted his behavior correctly. It was too late now. She was committed. "But most of all, I...” But she couldn't go any farther. She was amazed that she'd gotten so far.

Zeeona turned away, took a deep breath. "So you see, I shall be very happy to be going back to Betafarl with you."

It was over. One way or another, it was now up to him. She looked back at him, and everything was all right as he crossed to her and took her into his arms. There was nothing in the world for several eternities but Tarrant and their embrace.

Zeeona came to herself suddenly, aware that she hadn't been paying attention to her work for some time. Reminiscence was all well and good, she thought grimly, when your life was over. Which hers would be, if she didn't get on with her work. There would be time to relive those happy moments when she got back to Tarrant.

Or maybe there wouldn't be, she thought with a little internal giggle, if their time together so far was any indication.

Reality didn't keep its distance for long, not for her. Pragmatism seemed both her blessing and her curse. Several hours after their first real embrace, she found herself in an apparently little used lounge, which no clear idea of how she'd gotten there. She was lying on a couch, trying to catch her breath, while Tarrant seemed to be all over her, kissing and caressing. She wanted the moment to go on forever, but it was more important that he know everything, now.

"Tarrant."

"Mmmmm. “

"Tarrant, I have to talk to you."

Putting an arm around her waist, he kissed her, slowly and quite thoroughly. "I love you, too."

"Tarrant, this is important." She pushed him away from her slightly. "You are not the first man in my life."

The pilot smiled at her serious expression and replied softly, "I never thought I was. It doesn't matter." He went back to his previous occupation.

"Tarrant!" He sighed in resignation, and sat on the couch beside her, taking up her hands. She took a deep breath and concentrated on their interlocked hands. "His name was Don Jenslov. He was the Federation emissary to Betafarl when I was sixteen, and I thought I was in love with him."

"Zeeona "

"No, Tarrant," she cut him off sharply then, seeing his hurt look, immediately softened her tone. "Wait. Let me finish."

"He paid no attention to me at first, or at least no more than he would any adolescent daughter of a local chieftain. But then he began to seek me out, to ask my advice. I was flattered, and told him everything I knew or could find out, repeated every rumour that I overheard. I urged my father to ally Betafarl with the Federation, and made plans to attend the FSA. He encouraged me, he paid attention to me, and very soon my gratitude turned to love." She looked for a moment into the worried face so near hers, then turned away and smiled bitterly. "There had been nothing in my life but my books and my laboratory. I was overwhelmed."

Tarrant didn't move except to hold her hands tighter. His eyes never left her downturned face. "And he took advantage of your innocence. It's not a new story, love. There's no need...”

"I must have seemed extraordinarily naive to him," Zeeona continued determinedly. "He must not have been able to believe his luck. I lived only for him. And then he was recalled to Space Command Headquarters, suddenly. He left without a word, and I never heard from him again. I expected to be heartbroken, but almost as soon as he had gone I realized how foolish I had been."

"I decided never to make the same mistake again. Luckily, no one but my friend Janelle ever found out. I went back to my lab and stayed there, and everything was fine until you walked in and changed the rules. I did try not to love you, to be sensible. I told myself that our walk in the garden was just a moment of understanding between two very different people whose paths would never cross again. It was nice, but it meant nothing."

"I'm glad you weren't convinced."

Tarrant was smiling at her, that brilliant smile that stopped her heart and at the same time gave her strength. She attempted to retain her composure as he resumed making love to her. "I tried to believe it. And then, after you'd gone, when you left Betafarl, I felt as though I'd lost something. I never felt that way about anyone before."

"Zeeona... “

"I'm sorry if all this is unwelcome to you."

"No... “

"Zeeona, your father wants to see you.” It was Avon’s voice, magnified, unwelcome. “Now... Tarrant!"

Would things have been different if they hadn't been interrupted at that point? Would she have risked her father's fury and the alliance's future to run off with Tarrant? If Zukan had come upon them unaware, would his pride have taken precedence over his treachery and caused him to spurn the alliance and return immediately to Betafarl?

Her train of thought was interrupted by an alarm signal, just as their lovemaking had been interrupted by Avon's call. Zeeona impatiently readjusted several of the settings on the neutron bombarder, wishing she had decent equipment to work with. The instability of this machinery necessitated constant monitoring, and she'd had to recalibrate several gauges to adjust for unforeseen variables. If Xenon base were to be salvaged, there'd be quite a bit of work to do before she'd be satisfied with the living and working conditions. Right now, she just wanted to finish the immediate job and get back to the 'Scorpio' and Tarrant. Their time together had been too brief for her mind to really accept the change in her life. Now that her father was dead, once she'd proved her worth to Avon there would be no more barriers between her and Tarrant. And if they were together, she could face whatever the future might bring.

Imprisoned in her room after the scene with Zukan, Zeeona found she didn't really blame her father. He could not, truly, see things any other way. Tarrant represented everything he didn't want for his daughter: the pilot was an outlaw, contemptuous of authority, impetuous to the point of rashness, had no social standing, and a minimal life expectancy. In short, he was very much as Zukan himself had been not so long ago. He had nothing to offer the President's daughter but himself, which was all she wanted. She'd known all along that the situation was impossible, but had chosen to ignore that knowledge. Now she knew for sure that she loved Tarrant, and he loved her and there was nothing they could do about it. Neither Avon nor her father would allow it.

Daylight found her exhausted but under control. She had not regained her accustomed peace of mind, but she was resigned to returning to her home and taking up her accustomed life. She knew, rationally, that with time the immediacy of her loss would fade, but she was certain that she'd never again feel truly alive.

When her father escorted her to the 'Scorpio" and told her that Avon would be the pilot, she was neither surprised nor upset. In truth, she had not known how she could face Tarrant again. Given any encouragement, he would confront her father, despite Avon's so far successful attempt to keep them separated. The next step was up to her, but she could not convince herself that disobeying her father and probably destroying the coalition was the right course of action, simply to assure her own happiness. Maybe, eventually, she could reason with her father. Until then... She boarded the ship with apparent calm, but little hope.

Soolin's offer to return her to Xenon changed everything. It was so unexpected, that faced with the reality of leaving Tarrant, possibly forever, her heart had spoken before her reason could object. Without making a conscious decision, she found herself back at the base, and in Tarrant's arms. After a word to the amused and indulgent Dayna and Vila, Tarrant kissed her then took her down a corridor, into a cabin and another, longer kiss. When she pulled away a little to catch her breath, Tarrant indicated that she should sit on the bed, then sat next to her. "You're really here. I told myself that you'd say 'yes,' but I don't think I believed it. I have to thank Soolin when she gets back!"

"So do I." Zeeona looked at the handsome, open face she had come to love, and smiled back. Then she glanced around the untidy room. "Is this your cabin?"

"Yes." As if her words made him realize where they were, he stood up and began to sweep several piles of assorted papers and charts into desk drawers, and clothing into the bureau. "I'm sorry about the mess. I didn't think. I guess it's not exactly what you're used to."

"Tarrant, it does not matter."

He continued his hasty straightening up, not looking at her. "I didn't plan this very well. If you'd rather stay somewhere else, have a room of your own, I'm sure Dayna could fix you up."

"Tarrant. Tarrant!" She waited until she was sure she had his attention. "It really doesn't matter. Nothing matters now except that we are together. Don't you understand?" She held out her arms to him, and he pulled her into a hug that threatened to crush her ribs. Half smothered, she managed to find enough air to giggle. "Besides, after today I have no reputation left to compromise."

Tarrant smiled, then looked at her searchingly. "Seriously, love, if you'd rather have more room, or more time... “

She gazed at him wide eyed. "Don't you think it's a little late for that?" she asked, then favored him with her best come hither look and began to undo the fastenings of his tunic before she could be amazed at her own presumption.

After a few moments of silent, unaided effort, she faltered and looked up into his face, to find him grinning at her. "Don't stop. You were doing so well."

She frowned at him in mock offence. "I had not meant to do this all by myself!"

Tarrant laughed and pulled his tunic over his head. When the shirt covered his eyes, Zeeona pushed against his chest and they both tumbled onto the bed. Obstructing his efforts to free himself of the tangled garment, she took advantage of his relative helplessness to tickle him. Finally maneuvering his arms free of the sleeves despite her efforts, he tossed the tunic from the bed and put his arms around the laughing woman, then abruptly rolled them both over so that he was on top of her.

"Now, as they say, I've got you where I want you!" Tarrant chuckled evilly and attempted revenge by trying to tickle her, to no noticeable effect. "Blast all this leather. How does this thing come off?" He reached around and under her to the back fastenings of her bodice, trying to undo them while she squirmed, giggling, beneath him.

Suddenly, almost simultaneously, their movements slowed and seriousness returned. He began to kiss her again, as he had done the day before in the rec room, and feeling his intensity, Zeeona had a moment of near panic. There could be no turning back from this. She was committed to Tarrant in a way she had never been committed to anything or anyone before.

Sensing her hesitation, Tarrant stopped and looked at her. "Zeeona... I…”

She ran her sensitive, scientist's fingers down his cheek and across his lips, reveling in their softness and warmth. She'd left nothing behind that she would miss. And as for the alliance well, it was too late to worry about that now. Smiling to reassure him, she extricated herself and sat up, beginning to remove her tunic while Tarrant's eyes followed her every movement. He silently helped her out of her boots, then, seeing her diffidence, stood back and took off the rest of his own clothes as she stepped out of hers. His consideration made the situation much easier than she had expected, and before she could get too self conscious he had taken her back into his arms. She didn't have another coherent thought for several hours.

Alone on the devastated base, Zeeona repeated every obscenity ever spoken within her hearing range as she tried for a third time to run the final program. She must have the figures slightly wrong, but she was determined not to ask Avon for the use of ORAC. She had already taken longer than she had estimated she would to Avon, but there was no real deadline except in her own mind. The President's daughter took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She was almost done. Soon she and Tarrant would be together. She keyed in the program again.

Her time with Tarrant, little more than a day, was a blur of happiness. Intervals of lovemaking were interspersed with visits by Dayna and Vila when Tarrant was on duty. In the rare times when she found herself alone, she explored Tarrant's room, learning more about the man she intended to spend the rest of her life with. When she expressed a desire to see more of the base, Vila proved an eager guide, transparently pleased at having a new audience for his jokes. Some of his observations were very perceptive, and she occasionally glimpsed a man she wanted to get to know better, the one he hid beneath his antic exterior.

Always she was careful to avoid her father and his people, and the strain of hiding her, and of deceiving Zukan, was beginning to wear on them all except for Zeeona herself. Now that the die was cast, her own tension was much less. But it was with a great sense of relief that they all watched her father's ship leave Xenon base. Now at last her new life could begin.

Then there was the explosion.

The structural damage caused by the bombs was mainly contained to the entrances and exits. Most of the damage to the freight chamber where she worked had been done in the few minutes it had taken the technicians trapped in the room to die, agonizingly. Betafarlian technicians, most of them known to her. And to her father. He had killed his own people.

Zeeona shook her head as if to clear it. She didn't understand his motives, and now she probably never would. She stepped around an overturned packing case to look at another of her instruments. What was important now was that she undo, as much as possible, the damage he had done to the base, and to Avon's group. As to the damage he had done her well, Tarrant would help with that.

The thought of her lover increased her impatience to be done. She was definitely overdue, and Tarrant would be getting worried. Once she returned and announced her success, even Avon would have to accept her presence as a useful member of the crew. She tried to coax a little more speed from the temperamental equipment.

Watching Tarrant perform in a crisis had been very informative. She had not been offended by his brusqueness nor dismayed at the difficulty he sometimes had coping with the situation. He was obviously capable and decisive, and the others naturally looked to him for leadership. And he was young, and inexperienced at this type of command. Neither the FSA nor Avon had allowed him much real autonomy, nor had either been a proper training ground for the responsible handling of authority. Tarrant was therefore both uncertain and insecure, and it showed. But that was minor, and could be overcome with her support and insistence that Avon give him more responsibility.

She was not totally happy with the way that she'd dealt with the crisis. She hadn't really thought about dying. She hadn't panicked, even though the desperation in her voice when she pleaded with her father wasn't assumed. But his treachery had almost paralyzed her, and she had been of little help. She hadn't been allowed to be of much help, either.

Yes, she had to do a little attitude adjustment on Tarrant, when things settled down. He had a tendency to chivalry, that insidious combination of putting women on pedestals and at the same time discounting their value. She'd had enough of that on Betafarl, and didn't want the kind of 'protection' he wanted to give her.

Not that the assistance wasn't nice, especially when dealing with Avon. Upon their rescue from the base, Tarrant had stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, silently supportive as she faced the computer expert. 'Never to be alone again,' she remembered. It was true.

Avon was anything but helpful. "All right, Zeeona. What's it like down there. Salvageable?"

She was not to be intimidated. "If we can get rid of the contamination."

"Which is a pretty big 'if.'" Vila was still embarrassed at having nearly attacked her.

Avon, on the other hand, looked at no one else. "Perhaps we could reverse the process on the neutron bombarder and use it as a neutralizing filter. Is that feasible, do you think?"

Zeeona considered this. "Risky, though. It's not very stable, it could go critical."

Avon's voice hardened still further. "One person must go down. Volunteer or shall we draw lots?"

She didn't hesitate. "I'll go."

Tarrant was shocked. The whole byplay had confused him, and things were going too fast. "No! Why?"

"Because I'm the only one who knows how to work it." She spoke patiently, willing him to understand.

Vila still couldn't face her. "Seems reasonable."

Tarrant turned on him, viciously. "Shut up, Vila."

"I want it to be me." She spoke calmly. "It has to be me." She looked up at the pilot, and put one hand over his. "Don't you understand?"

There'd been a silence of unanimous, if unenthusiastic, agreement as she kissed Tarrant then she walked away from them to suit up. Despite her clear preference, Tarrant had followed her.

She turned to face him. "Tarrant, I have to "

"I know." The pilot looked unhappy and angry, whether at her, at Avon, or at himself, was unclear. He helped her step into the protective overall. "I just don't like it."

"Everything will be all right. It's what I do, you know. What I'm trained for." In fact, for the first time since her arrival, her course of action was clear.

"But it's dangerous!" He was pleading now.

"Not really, not if I'm careful. And certainly less dangerous for me, knowing the procedure and the risks, than for any of the rest of you."

"I just don't want anything to happen to you!" He knew he had spoken too vehemently, and now lowered his voice. "Not now, at the beginning of our life together."

Zeeona set down her helmet and took Tarrant's hands in hers. "You can't protect me from everything. If I'm to become part of this crew, I have to prove my capabilities. For my own sake " She stopped his objection before he could state it. "Really. Not just to make a point to Avon or the others. I have to do it. It's what I've worked for all my life: to be accepted because of who I am, what I do, not because of my father or my lover."

"Zeeona, I'm not Zukan."

"I know." She hated that hurt little boy look of his. She couldn't decide whether the urge to hug him or hit him was stronger. But then she was still childish in some ways herself. Maybe they could grow up together. "My love, be patient with me. We have much to learn about each other. And all the time in the world."

She smiled as she thought of the hasty, unsatisfying embrace that followed. Their first quarrel. They would have to make up soon, and at length.

Suddenly, the alarm went off on the neutron bombarder. Overload! She cursed her father for his treachery, swore at the damaged machine, but most of all she blamed herself for the inattention that had caused the failure. It would take several minutes of intense effort and concentration to ensure that the base was cleared of the remaining radiation. Equipment failure could reverse the process again, creating possibly terminal damage to the apparatus. She drew a deep breath, composed herself, and set to work.

She had to work quickly, but calmly and methodically. The wail of the alarm was distracting, but she hadn't the time to disconnect it. At any rate, it would cease when she corrected the imbalance. Disconnect the secondary back up circuit. Reroute the power to an undamaged section. Reconnect carefully! The bombarder, meant to be used only once, was barely of adequate construction. She would never have tolerated such shoddy workmanship. The minimal insulation on this wiring was almost gone. A short looked imminent. And the bulky gloves were so difficult to work in!

Step by step, she traced the circuits, repairing what damage she could. The base was almost clear now. A few more minutes… Her teleport bracelet chimed. She heard Avon's voice, then Tarrant's. The pilot sounded frantic. He couldn't come down now, with the machine unstable and all her concentration needed to finish the clearing operation safely. She had to warn him. She started to pull her right hand free of the machinery, reach for her teleport bracelet and another alarm wailed. She was so nearly finished! In seconds, the bombarder could explode, reinfecting the base. And killing her in the process as well as Tarrant, if he teleported down.

She jury rigged a new connection, feverishly twisting wires together. The power surged through; the connection held. As she finished, a small short caused her to flinch away from the lash up. Her glove, fused loosely to the circuitry by the flash, was pulled from her hand.

"All the time in the world."