A Princess of the Aerie by John Barnes Read Free Book Online

Academy commons, a big drum that tumbled
     slowly to provide enough grav in the booths to keep drinks in cups and papers on tables. Myx sat at Jak’s side, Dujuv across.
     Both stared at the wall.
    “Weehu,” Jak said. “Toktru I don’t want to referee between you two. First of all none of this was my idea and I think Sesh
     was out of her mind, or way too sentimental, which might be the same thing, when she specifically asked for the two of you.
     I know perfectly well that you are
not
together, and haven’t been mekko and demmy for a long, long time.”
    “One year, seven months, and three days,” Dujuv said.
    Jak ignored that. “I know that you avoid each other and that neither of you wants to know anything about what the other one
     is doing.”
    “True for one of us,” Myx said.
    “And I know that the two of you are never, never, absolutely never, ever, going to be mekko and demmy again, and you both
     know I normally wouldn’t even ask either of you to be civil to the other one. So I am not looking forward to sharing a vague
     open-ended mission with you.”
    Dujuv stared at the wall and said, “I can behave. Just don’t expect me—”
    “You’re
not
behaving.” Jak was exasperated. “You’re acting like you’re about to attack or maybe hide in a storage compartment and cry.”
    “I’ll talk to you later.” Dujuv leapt to the top of the booth wall and launched himself into the center of the drum, where
     the grav was only about five percent. He airswam out a service entrance, snagging and consuming two desserts off an incoming
     robot dessert tray. The service door swung shut as two empty plates caromed off the dining deck, making people in other booths
     jump.
    Myxenna looked sideways at Jak and raised an eyebrow. “So are you going to give up and just let him behave like a silly barbarian
     pig, or chase after him like a gweetz and spend hours trying to soothe him? You know what they say about panths. They were
     created for the old Martian emperors, and if you’re going to raise a biologically-enhanced Praetorian Guard, of course you
     make it super-loyal. Probably they copied imprinting off baby ducks, mixed it with devotion off big dumb dogs, and set it
     to develop at adolescence. So poor Dujy bonded to his first real demmy, and now he can’t feel right unless he’s being loyal
     to her.
    “Well, I’m not a panth, and nobody bred me to have all that stupid doggy loyalty, and I can’t return his feelings. It’s tough
     on him to
have
those feelings, of course, but unless he’d bonded to a panth girl he’d never have found anyone who would accept all that
     devotion—except, of course, some aristo who would have used him as an expendable resource. I’m not a panth and I’m not a queen,
     so he’s stuck.” She brushed her thick jet-black hair away from her face, wet her lips, and focused the blue stars in her green
     irises directly into Jak’s eyes, her smile coaxing his smile out to join it.
    She was fascinating in an utterly different way from Sesh. Jak knew, having found out on a few occasions which had toktru
     precessed Dujuv, that her pale skin, spattered with small freckles, was soft and delicate but that Myx liked a firm grip and
     deep pressure when touched; he knew that when you were in bed (or up against a wall, or in a freefall room, or a Pertrans
     car … ) with Myx, she seemed to guide you singing-on into what you had always dreamed of doing. “It’s been a while,” she said,
     smiling, “and Dujuv can’t possibly get any more precessed than he already is, you know.” She tugged her top tighter and sat
     up straight; for such a small woman, she had very big breasts.
    “Assuming this won’t bother Fnina,” she said, “or that she won’t find out.”
    Jak smiled. “Or that I don’t care if it bothers her. Besides, she never knows anything that’s going on unless Mreek Sinda
     makes a viv out of it—my demmy is that media-gweetz’s number one fan.