Power Play - Anne McCaffrey [51]
“I’m neither of those, but I told Dinah I wouldn’t cooperate any further if she didn’t let me help you.” Namid perched tentatively on the edge of the table and looked around, sighing deeply.
“What’s the matter?” Yana asked.
He grimaced, shrugged, and held out one hand in a helpless gesture. “Nothing new,” he said in a resigned tone. “In fact,” he added, as he continued to look around, “this is slightly better than my previous quarters.”
“Oh?” Yana said encouragingly. He didn’t look at all the sort of person to associate with privateers, even one as patently sensual and domineering as Dinah O’Neill.
“I was married to Dinah O’Neill.” Another sigh, one expressing the folly of such a union. “She doesn’t take the divorce seriously.”
“In short, you’re now permanently on board this ship?”
As he folded his arms across his chest, he had a slight twinkle in his eye and a rueful smile on his face. “We met under considerably different circumstances. It was a whirlwind romance. I’d never met anyone quite like her before. I’d just returned from a two-year stint studying two new variables and . . .” He shrugged.
“Any female would have seemed delightful?” Yana couldn’t help twitting him, and then went back to sipping his brew.
“Exactly. And, to give the devil her due, she was everything I’d ever dreamed of. We had a glorious six months, although her business took her away periodically.”
“Then you discovered what her business was?”
“Quite by chance. Of course, I filed for divorce immediately, as my professional reputation would have been seriously flawed if it became known I’d had any associations with such a . . .”
“Unsavory occupation?”
“Exactly. I received official notice of the termination—and so did she. Only, I failed to recognize how she might take such a step. And the next thing I knew, I was aboard this ship and here I’ve remained. I must say, since you seem to be incarcerated, too, that it’s marvelous to have intelligent company again.”
They both heard the noises in the corridor outside, and then the panel whooshed open. First Bunny was propelled inside; Marmion followed in a more dignified entry, while Diego’s limp body was launched from the doorway onto the bunk opposite Yana, his head connecting hard with the wall. The panel closed with a snap and Bunny, crying out in protest, went to Diego.
“Yana? Are you all right?” Marmion asked, going around the table so she would not have to touch Mendeley.
“I’m much better for Namid’s brew,” Yana said, trying to convey to Marmion that the astronomer deserved her pity, not her censure. “But what have those bastards done to poor Diego?”
“One of the men bringing us here goosed Bunny,” Marmion said angrily. “She hit him, too, but that first mate just clobbered Diego as a lesson.” She was so furious she was shaking and, with a look that could have pierced steel, she glared at Namid. “Are we to be spied upon every moment we’re together, in addition to the other indignities?”
“Come off it, Marmie,” Yana said. “He’s as much a prisoner as we are.”
“Are you being ransomed, too?” Marmion asked, her manner toward the tall astronomer instantly more amenable.
“There’s no one to pay one for me,” he said, and his statement was not a bid for pity. “I forgot to block Dinah’s access to my credit account.”
“How’s Diego?” Yana asked Bunny, who had pushed the boy’s body into a more comfortable position.
“He’ll come round. Any water?” she asked, looking about her.
Yana pointed to the narrow doors. “Behind one of them?”
Bunny investigated, found a towel, wet it from the spigot above a miniature hand basin, and returned to mop Diego’s brow.
“You know,” Mendeley began, “I’ve never figured out why Dinah bothered to go through a formal marriage ceremony. I mean, she could have contracted a short-term arrangement. Or none at all. But she went to such lengths to get me to many her.”
“Really?” Marmion said in some surprise. “She doesn’t seem the marrying type.”
“That’s what I thought, but we got married. Not that I minded