Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [50]
‘Excuse me, have you seen my friend?’
The young man lowered the napkin. It was Jovanka.
‘G’day.’
Nyssa looked away, blushing. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Cripes, it’s Nyssa isn’t it? I didn’t recognize you with my clothes on.’
‘How do you know my name, Mr Jovanka?’
‘Call me Bruce, everyone else does. To answer your question. I made it my business to. As soon as I’d finished my shower, I went downstairs and asked the concierge about the lovely young maid who’d been in my room. He gave me your name. D’ya want a drink?’ He pulled back a chair for her, and Nyssa took her place at the table.
Bruce poured her a glass of champagne and leant forward. ‘You’ve got pretty eyes, you know that?’ His voice was earnest, and his eyes sparkled as he spoke. He was a number of years older than she was.
‘Thank you,’ Nyssa replied, blushing slightly. It was the first time she had tasted Terran wine. It compared well with those of Traken.
‘Nyssa’s a lovely name, you know. I’ve always thought so.’
She frowned.
‘I know it’s unusual,’ Jovanka said quickly, ‘but there was a “Nyssa” at my school when I was very young. We used to hang around together, go for bike rides, swim in the creek. There wasn’t anything more to it than that.’ He chuckled. ‘Our parents thought that we’d get married one day. We were only ten years old.’
His hand brushed against hers. Nyssa started, and looked down. He had very large hands and well-manicured nails. As before, she sensed only goodness from him.
‘I’m sorry about... you know,’ Nyssa began. ‘I understand that human etiquette regarding the display of genitalia is very strict. My people have similar taboos. For an unmarried woman to see a man’s er –’
‘Listen, Nyssa, I’d rather not talk about it in public.’
Nyssa reddened. ‘No, no, I quite understand. Neither would I. Why don’t we go up to my room for a little more privacy?’
‘Are you sure? You hardly know me.’
‘No, no, I insist. It’s the least I can do.’
Tegan slid the key card down and the door to her room clicked open. She stepped inside, and the lights flickered on. She kicked off her shoes, rubbing the heel where it was sore. The curtains hadn’t been drawn over the glass door leading out to the balcony. Tegan saw herself reflected in it, looking exhausted. Alongside her were two chunky blue shapes.
She was shoved against the wall and frisked, a gun to her head. There were two of them – armoured figures like she had seen outside the hotel. The smaller one was patting her down, looking for guns. The other had a box in his hand.
‘Don’t kill me,’ she said, trying to keep calm, trying not to panic them into shooting her. All basic tactics when dealing with hijackers and armed nutters.
The one frisking her was a young woman, she realized.
She caught a glimpse of curly red hair.
‘Clear!’ she called when her search was complete.
‘Turn around.’ Tegan did so, very slowly. They stood watching her closely. The blue armour was made from some plastic-looking material trimmed in gold. Nyssa wasn’t here, there wasn’t any sign that she had been. The taller one, a middle-aged Asian man, said one word:
‘Record.’
‘Hands behind you,’ the woman demanded. Without protest, Tegan crossed them behind her back. She felt something pressed to her wrist. It secured itself around her. Automatic handcuffs.
‘You are Tegan Jovanka?’ His voice was weary. He had seen better days.
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. How did they know that?
‘You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason.’
‘I’ve only been on the planet three hours,’ she objected.
‘All I’ve done in that time is book into this hotel and had a pot of coffee. You’ve got the wrong woman!’
The man wasn’t listening. ‘I am obliged to inform you that your words, gestures and postures are being recorded and may form part of any judicial action taken against you.
You have the right to