Opportunity to Seize
Opportunity to Seize is a multiple novel outtake. Honest, we tried to fit it into two books before we admitted defeat, and pulled it. But, in our humble opinions, it was too good not to share.
SUREBLEAK
Dudley Avenue and Farley Lane
It might have been thunder that waked Daav.
If so, it waked only him. His bedmates slumbered on, Kamele’s head on Aelliana’s shoulder; a pleasant picture, which he tarried a moment to admire before slipping out from beneath the blankets.
His pants came easily to hand, and he pulled them on before turning toward the window. A line of light showed at the edge of the drawn shade; he eased it up a fraction and gazed upon a street filled with shadows, along which street lights glowed. Above, the sky showed the faintest streaks of peach and cream.
Well, then, possibly it had only thundered in his dreams. It would not have been the first time.
He let the shade fall back, looking again to the bed, and the pair sleeping there. Given the advancing hour, he really ought to wake them. Surely they had tried Kareen’s patience—and her hospitality—far enough. He and Aelliana had stopped yesterday for a morning visit, to make themselves known to one who deserved the truth from them, and expecting—on his side—to have been summarily dismissed.
Instead, they had proceeded to monopolize Kamele all day and night, nor had she been an unwilling participant.
In retrospect, it could hardly have been otherwise. After so much time apart, and so many adventures, in which Aelliana’s physical presence, and his own abrupt youthening, were not the least strange—of course it would take hours—days!—to catch themselves up. It had been his error, to expect that Kamele would meet them coldly. His grievous error, unworthy of the man who had been Kamele Waitley’s onagrata for twenty Standards.
Well, and he had his error shown to him, vigorously, and they three had filled in the broad outlines of their lives since last they’d been together. That, at least. His sister had been forbearing, perhaps even kind—witness the discreet series of trays sent up to the scholar’s rooms, and the lack of a call to Prime.
To tell truth, neither he nor Aelliana had planned a bed visit, nor, he was persuaded, had Kamele. Yet, when the moment came, it had been recognized by all, and accepted as inevitable.
So—a touch, and another, a press, a stroke; knowing kisses shared between familiar lovers—and the bed, all three aflame. And after they had rested, once again, comfortable and comforting, before sliding into shared sleep . . .
To wake with a new day barely dawning, and the particular business he and Aelliana had at the port yet to be accomplished. Not that there had been a deadline attached to that business, other than their mutual desire to become properly established as pilots, and certified to fly.
He considered the bed, and the choices before him: To wake them, or not to wake them? Surely, whichever it came to, it would be them; he was done with sneaking away from Kamele while she slept.
As he stood contemplating his best course, there came a discreet knock at the door, which was very likely their eviction notice, solving the problem for them all.
Running his hands over his short-cropped hair, he crossed the room and opened the door, expecting to see his sister, properly chilly in her irritation.
Instead, there was another tray on the table beside the door, a multitude of small covered plates clustered on it, with a steaming teapot, and a carafe of morning wine nestled next to a small vase holding three small dark red flowers.
Well.
He picked up the tray, brought it into the room, and put it on the table by the window.
Daav, Aelliana murmured inside his head, has Kareen had enough of us?
Very much the contrary, he told her. True affection is honored, and we are invited to make merry.
We have made merry, Aelliana pointed out.
Ah, but have we been merry thrice? he asked, focusing deliberately on the vase and its contents.
There was a flicker of . . . something from Aelliana. Perhaps it was astonishment.
Kareen sent that?
So I suppose, as it was Kareen who urged us to call and make our bows. She must feel a certain proprietary interest. And she does appear genuinely fond of Kamele.
She is . . . much changed, Aelliana offered eventually.
I am told that age mellows, he answered. Not that I would know, of course.
Of course, his lifemate said politely. If you have done fussing with the tray, you might come and help me wake Kamele.
Daav smiled, and bowed gently to the three bold flowers in their vase.
Certainly, he said. After all, one would scarcely wish to disoblige one’s sister.
***
Later, having obliged Kareen most thoroughly, they tardily addressed breakfast, each telling over the tasks of the advancing day.
“We have two ships to inspect, so that we may vigorously debate the merits of each,” Aelliana said, sipping the last of her tea.
Kamele tipped her head to one side. She was still damp from the shower, and droplets glittered like gemstones strung through her pale hair.
“Will you set up as small traders?” she asked.
“As couriers,” Aelliana said. “We are quite unsuited to be traders, I fear.”
“And it must be said,” Daav added, “that the potential of randomized danger draws her, like a moth to flame.”
“Very true,” Aelliana said gravely. “Besides, you know, if I fail to fall into enough scrapes from which I must be extracted, Daav becomes bored, which I am certain you agree is something to be avoided.”
Kamele laughed.
“When he’s bored, he takes things apart,” she said, giving Aelliana a comradely nod, “as you know. You’d definitely want to avoid that, on a spaceship.”
“Unkind!” Daav protested. “I always put them back together again!”
He put his empty cup on the table, met Kamele’s eye, and lifted a shoulder in a rueful half shrug. “Nearly always.”
She laughed again.
“Do you plan an immediate lift?”
“Not quite immediately,” Aelliana said. “The debating of merits may take some time. Also, we must be tested for new licenses.”
Kamele frowned, and glanced to Daav.
“Theo tells me that a master pilot’s license never expires.”
“Very true, but in the particular case, it is—more expedient, let us say—to obtain a new license under a new name than to undertake an explanation of my current estate to either the Pilots Guild or to the Scouts.”
“The delm is adamant,” Aelliana added. “We must qualify on our current abilities, and the tickets we fly on must be true.”
“No falsifying sources,” Kamele said wisely, and was rewarded with a wide smile.
“Exactly so.”
“And you?” Daav said. “Are you entirely fixed on resigning your position at Delgado?”
“Yes. I’ll be sending my letter this week. I expect Admin will be delighted. I’ve been more of a thorn in their side than a rose in their crown, lately.”
“I wonder . . . ” Aelliana said, and hesitated, casting Kamele a conscious look. “I fear that I am about to meddle.”
Kamele met her eyes blandly.
“Well, I’m certainly not used to that.”
Aelliana inclined her head gravely.
“Indeed, how could you be? Now that you have been warned, I proceed—Kamele, must you resign?”
“What else should I do? Go back to Delgado and be compliant?”
“Oh, no; that would be too dreadful! I was only thinking that—of course, you will wish to use your expertise to build Surebleak an educational system. Surebleak, though, is short of funds, and likewise short of scholars trained in the traditional way. How if you allowed Delgado to participate in the project? Would not a satellite school on a planet which is poised to enter the universal conversation increase Admin’s melant’i, and the whole worth of the university?”
“Especially,” Daav murmured, “if they could assign some of their more . . . noncompliant scholars to the project?”
Kamele stared . . . toward him, though what she was seeing was her thoughts. It was an expression he knew well.
Our work here is done, van’chela, he said to Aelliana.
We may trust so. And only think what a gaggle of Delgadan scholars might do with Surebleak.
Imagination balks, he assured her.
Bah.
Kamele blinked back to the room.
“I take your point,” she said to Aelliana. “This is an opportunity.”
“Precisely so,” Aelliana said with a smile. She glanced toward the window, now showing a street filled up with the full light of day.
“I fear that we must take leave of you now, to pursue our own opportunity.”
She stood, and Daav did.
“Of course,” Kamele said, rising with them. “Visit again, when you’re able. At least”—she cast a stern eye over Daav—“you might write.”
He bowed his head in contrition.
“At the very least,” he said softly.
“Now, that was effective,” Aelliana said approvingly. “I will have to copy your style.”
“Be sure to let me know how it turns out,” Kamele said. “Now, quickly, another kiss from each of you—and go! We all have opportunity to seize!”