Chapter 11

Dawn sat up at the head of her bed, looking down at Lin. The Chinese girl was lying on her side, dressed only in a green, silk thong, her head on Dawn's bare thigh. Dawn stroked Lin's damp hair. Both of them were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Summer had come early to Boston that night and Dawn, having discovered her new friend's tolerance for cold was much lower than her own, had turned off the air conditioning for her room. The room had gotten muggy, but neither had been inclined to get out of bed and turn it on again.

"Dawn," said Lin. "I have a horrible confession to make."

Dawn wanted to tell Lin not to confess anything. She was pretty sure she'd figured out Lin's horrible secret and, if she confessed it, things would change. As long as it was just a suspicion, she could hold off on doing anything about it. She could wait until Thule got back to make any decisions. Thule would make sense of things. It might even turn out that Dawn wasn't doing anything wrong by being with Lin.

Dawn sat and stroked her hair, hoping Lin wouldn't make her horrible confession. Lin seemed to take the silence for consent and said, "I think I'm enjoying having Thule away."

Dawn smiled and chuckled. Lin rolled on her back and looked up at her, "You seem pensive."

"Just hot," Dawn lied. "It got warm on us. I'm going to open a window."

Lin let her up. Dawn walked to the window, raised it, and looked out over the darkened grounds. After a few seconds, Lin was behind her, arms around her waist, placing delicate kisses between her shoulder blades. They'd spent hours talking and touching each other until her body was humming with anticipation. At first, Dawn had been afraid she would push too hard and risk making Lin do things she didn't want to. But, it had been Lin who pushed, not farther or faster than Dawn wanted to go, but faster than Dawn thought Lin should go. At first, Lin's approach had been driven by curiosity and novelty. While she seemed to be enjoying herself, pleasure didn't become a driving force until later.

Last night, they'd wound up lying curled up in bed together, each dressed in only their underwear like they were now. Twice Lin had gone to remove that final barrier. Dawn had stopped her both times. Dawn didn't know why it mattered to her, but it did. If she'd tried a third time, Dawn wouldn't have resisted. But, Lin had fallen asleep instead.

Now, Dawn felt the kisses getting lower, knew that Lin was kneeling behind her. She also knew that she wasn't going to resist anything the other girl was going to do. Lin had worn down every defense she had. She was starting to forget why she'd resisted in the first place.

Lin curled around one of Dawn's legs, still kissing her. The kisses landed on the back of her thigh now. Dawn held onto the window frame for balance and let a contented sigh rise from low in her throat. Lin's hands worked their way up Dawn's leg, kneading the flesh lightly as they went. For the first time in hours, the pleasure started building in a specific direction. Once it did, Dawn found she was anxious for it to continue. When Lin started running her fingers along the waistband of her panties, Dawn took the other girl's hands and hooked her fingertips under the edge, indicating it was okay to peel them off. Lin rubbed her head against Dawn's leg, pausing a few seconds, and slid them down, kissing where they'd exposed.

Dawn trembled, her breath quickening. She felt Lin's hand sliding up the inside of one of her legs and spread them wider. The initial invasion was hesitant. Dawn would have exaggerated her reaction to what worked and what didn't, but found she didn't have to. She moaned at the touch, gripping the window frame tighter. Lin had good instincts. Plenty of people assumed that women all had good instincts, but Dawn had found that to be untrue. All summer, Dawn and Marigold had gotten better at making love to each other. Towards the end of it, they'd been able to laugh at how awkward their first attempts had been.

Lin figured out quickly what worked and what didn't. Soon, she fell into a rhythm where her index finger slid just inside Dawn, running parallel to Dawn's sex. Every time Dawn felt Lin's knuckle pass over her clit, she trembled and held on tighter until she was afraid she would splinter the wood.

"Lin," she moaned. "Lin, stop."

Lin rested her head on Dawn's thigh and looked up at her.

Dawn grinned, "If you kept doing that, my knees were going to give out. Where did you learn that?"

Lin shrugged, "I was just trying what I thought would feel good. It was sort of a happy accident."

"It was a very happy accident," said Dawn. "Let's lie back down."

Lin rose to her feet, hugging Dawn's back again. She'd missed this... this thing that was different from what Thule or Scott could give her--not so much the sex, but the softness, the experience of touching and being touched by someone who felt like she did. She loved being with her men, but there was an alienness to them, a most enjoyable wrongness in their hard muscles and sharp angles.

She sat on the bed, watching Lin approach. When she was close enough, Dawn reached out and slid off Lin's thong, kissing the other girl just below the navel as she did. Looking down at the small, evenly-trimmed patch of black hair, she giggled. When Lin looked down, a question in her eyes, Dawn said, "We have the same hairstyle."

It didn't take long before they were rolling around as they had been before, but their hands were more insistent and inquisitive than they had been. Finally, Dawn managed to get Lin pinned down on her back, holding her down by her hips. Lowering her head, she kissed Lin on the most sensitive place she could find. Lin shuddered and spread her legs for easier access.

Dawn licked and kissed, falling into the old patterns she'd learned with Marigold. She knew it wouldn't perfectly match what Lin wanted. The violent trembling and pleasure noises rising from the bed told her it would do as a leaping-off point.

"God, Dawn," Lin cried out. "Mercy, please. Let me catch my breath."

Dawn laughed and slid up the bed to lie next to Lin, "I'll take that to mean you're enjoying it."

Lin nodded wordlessly and kissed Dawn on the mouth, "You?"

Dawn stroked her hair, "You know I am."

Lin nodded, went up on her knees, and trailed kisses down Dawn's body until her tongue found the junction between Dawn's thighs. Her instincts weren't as good here as they had been, but Dawn also realized she was getting preoccupied again. She pushed the preoccupations out of her mind and forced herself to relax. Soon, she was riding a wave of pleasure that crashed over her again and again. She gripped Lin's hair as gently as she could manage, but knew she must be hurting the other girl. Lin didn't protest.

When they were finally done, Dawn lay on her back, cradling Lin in her arms and listening to the other girl breathe the steady, even pace of untroubled sleep.

Ioke was stalking the halls between the staterooms of the Kleine Schwester, not because she was looking for anything, but because she found it easier to think if she kept moving. Sitting in the suite she shared with Captain Morrison, it was too easy to fall into despair over her lack of options. She'd spent four days positioning herself to be better able to escape and looking for an opening. So far, all she'd found were dead ends.

If Raul was to be believed, they had ten more days before they were handed over to the prince. She still didn't know who this prince was, but she had to work from the assumption that once that happened, their situation would get markedly worse. She still hadn't found any way out of it.

True, thanks to Jake, she had some of the men jumping to do her bidding as if she were the captain himself. But, she couldn't exactly order them to let her and her charges off the ship. Even if she did, where would they go? They could be thousands of miles from anything or right off the coast of Europe for all she knew. She'd heard that sailors used to be able to spot land by the appearance of seagulls, but the Kleine Schwester seemed to come with its own ubiquitous contingent of the damned things.

As she was stalking the halls, Ioke heard a creaking and looked up. Above one of the darker corners of the hallway, there was suddenly a swatch of blue sky and sunlight pouring in. Ioke held her ground, but was ready to flee if necessary.

But, a few seconds later, a pair of female feet in sandals appeared. Ioke hadn't known that there was a trapdoor in the roof there. But, now that the door was open, a ladder was clearly visible, gunmetal gray against a wall the same color. The feet were followed by legs, a bikini bottom and, finally, the entirety of Helene.

Except that Ioke didn't even allow herself to think that name. This was Colleen. That other person was someone who would almost certainly be thrown overboard if she were discovered on the ship. Ioke realized that she was nursing a faint headache and had been for the last twenty-four hours or so. The stress of having to be perfect, not make even the slightest mistake, was starting to wear on her.

Behind Colleen came Rebecca. Over the last few days, Rebecca had become Ioke's lieutenant. She was smart, charismatic, and just a little bit bloodthirsty, exactly the kind of second-in-command Ioke needed.

"Headed for the beach?" Ioke asked.

"Maybe," said Rebecca. "There's a deck up there with a clear view from horizon to horizon. If we get close to civilization, we'll be able to see from there better than anywhere other than the comm tower."

Helene nodded, "And Rebecca is an Olympic-class swimmer. If we see a chance, the plan is for her to swim to shore and call for help. We figure the name of the ship and the name of whichever port it just passed will be enough to rustle up a rescue."

"Good plan," said Ioke. "But, the ocean out here is a lot colder than water near the shore. You'll freeze to death in that outfit."

Rebecca grinned, "This is just for show. We're clearly visible from the comm. We wanted to look like we were just sunbathing. I've got warmer, form-fitting clothes up there. I don't know how much they'll help, but I do know I can't get my hands on a wetsuit. We've got some of the officers watching every time the captain leaves the bridge. It may help us buy influence later."

Ioke nodded. The women she was responsible for were really good at positioning themselves to take advantage of an opening should one arise. The problem was that there just hadn't been any openings.

"How are things going with the captain?" asked Helene.

Ioke shook her head in frustration, "I don't think anything I do makes a goddamned bit of difference. I..." Ioke could find no words to describe how things had been going with the captain that didn't make her sound like a traitor even to her own ears. Instead, she changed the subject, "How about you and Professor Steiner?"

Helene shrugged, "He was exhausted last night after meeting with the captain and fell sound asleep. This morning, he was out the door before I even woke up."

"He didn't touch you?" asked Rebecca.

Helene shook her head and yawned, "Nope. He just laid there next to me, sound asleep all night. Made it damned hard for me to doze off, too."

"Do you think he can be convinced to help us?" Rebecca asked. Ioke and Helene had elected not to tell the other women that Jake was on their side. It was, as Thule would probably say, information to be distributed strictly on a need-to-know basis.

"Maybe," said Helene, a wicked grin on her lips. "I'll know more after tonight."

"Colleen," said Ioke. "Walk with me to my stateroom, please."

Rebecca nodded at the implicit dismissal, "I'm going to see if I can't find some sunblock so we don't get burned while on watch."

"So," Ioke asked when they were alone. "Is Jake making any progress? I know you've only been on board for twenty-four hours, but..."

"He's in the captain's confidence," said Helene. "Captain Morrison and Jov spent two hours explaining the state of affairs on board to him. His only job is to try to prevent a mutiny and, failing that, to put it down. His official title is 'security chief.' That's also supposed to explain why he's bunking here--so that he can keep an eye on us."

"Is he actually going to be able to prevent a mutiny?"

Helene looked down and shook her head, "He doesn't think so. Right now, he's trying to strengthen the loyalty of the men who are expected to side with the captain and those who might be on the fence."

"How?"

"Currently?" asked Helene. "If what he said last night worked out, he's losing a couple thousand dollars to them in poker."

Ioke shrugged, "I guess that's as good a way as any."

"Don't worry," said Helene. "If anyone can stop a mutiny by force of personality alone, Jake... well, he's one of two people who could do it."

Ioke nodded, "I know. I'm just... I'm starting to lose it. But... I can hold on long enough for this thing to be resolved... one way or another."

Helene nodded, "All right. If you need me, I'll be back up top."

Ioke rubbed her eyes, "Do me a favor. In two hours, come back here and make sure I'm awake. I don't want to sleep, but I'm going to do it voluntarily or involuntarily real soon."

Helene yawned again, "If I don't get some sleep tonight, I'm going to have the same problem."

Ioke turned away, slid her hand in her pocket, fished out her key, fumbled with it for a minute, then unlocked her stateroom door. She'd made it about two steps into the darkened room when an arm was wrapped around her throat and a hand slammed over her mouth.

Ioke closed her eyes and squirmed to get a better angle on biting the hand so that she could scream. The arm tightened around her throat, making it impossible to breathe.

"I've decided..." hissed a voice in her ear. "Not to kill you. In a second, I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth. If you're a traitor, go ahead and scream. Because, if I guessed wrong, I'm dead anyway."

Through the whole speech, Ioke had been clawing at the arm on her windpipe, trying to draw breath. Finally, it loosened. A few seconds later, the hand came off her mouth.

"I don't know why you bother with weapons," she said, turning on her attacker. "You could just scare people to death."

Gayle grinned, "I take it you're not about to scream."

"Of course not," said Ioke. "What are you doing here? This has to be the worst place on the ship for you."

Gayle shook her head, "Not really. The captain will be on the bridge for another couple of hours. And, I need your help."

Ioke nodded, "With what?"

"I think I've found a way to rig a ship-to-shore telephone call," said Gayle. "But, I've only got one chance. It'll still be routed through the switchboard, though. So, I won't have very long."

Ioke's heart soared at the possibility, "What do you need from me?"

Gayle looked down, abashed, "I need to know who to call. It needs to be somebody who can help us and is smart enough to figure out what's going on if I can only get a fifteen-second message to them."

"Thule," said Ioke, not hesitating. "Call Thule."

"Great," said Gayle. "What's his phone number."

"Shit. I don't know," said Ioke. "I had it in my cell phone, but I never learned it. You'll have to get it from Jake."

"Who?"

"The new security chief. He came on in Boston. He's on our side. He works for Thule."

Gayle nodded, "All right. I'll..."

"No," said Ioke. "Wait. It's also in my little black book. That was still in my purse when the captain gave it back."

"Great," said Gayle. "Where's your purse?"

"In the bedroom," said Ioke. "I'll get it."

As the two of them headed to the bedroom, Ioke asked, "How'd you manage to set up a phone call?"

"This place is a fucking treasure trove," said Gayle. "Do you remember when it was hijacked like twenty years ago?"

Ioke shook her head, "I'm only eighteen."

"Me too," said Gayle. "But, it was a big deal in the news and you still hear about it whenever somebody does a history of terrorism. Anyway, it was taken twenty years ago at sea--biggest act of piracy ever. Everybody thinks it was sunk. But, obviously not. Anyway, as near as I can tell, half the junk it was hauling has been in its original shipping containers since then. There's a ton of old construction equipment on board and... unbelievably, telecom gear. I found what looks like an old lineman's handset and was able to get a dial tone and listen in on a ship-to-shore call. I..."

Both of them froze at once at the sound of keys being turned in the lock of the outer door. After a second, Gayle pulled her survival knife free of its sheath.

Ioke put her hand on Gayle's wrist and shook her head in the negative. She whispered, "Find the book. I'll keep him busy."

Gayle looked reluctant, but sheathed her knife and nodded.

Ioke took a deep breath, opened the bedroom door, stepped out, and closed it gently behind her. As gentle as she'd been, it still clicked shut behind her. Inwardly, Ioke cursed. Gayle would have to click the door open again to get out. Somehow, Ioke would have to keep the captain unable to see or hear it when the time came.

"Ioke," he said, his voice booming happily off the walls. "What are you doing in here with all the lights off?"

"I've had a lingering headache," Ioke said. "I took some pills and laid down. I must have fallen asleep."

The captain made a sympathetic face and sat down on the couch, "Come. Sit down. I will get rid of your headache."

Ioke went and sat by him. He instructed her to turn away from him. Ioke managed to do so in a way that caused him to twist and look away from the bedroom.

"Take off your shirt," he said. He still sounded pleased and amused, but also faintly predatory. Since that was how Ioke wanted him, she complied, unbuttoning the white blouse and, without being bidden, unhooking her bra and dropping it to the floor.

Each night since she'd first come to the captain's quarters, she'd shared his bed. Each night, Ioke had pretended to be a little bit more willing and receptive. She had to do it gradually so as to allay the captain's suspicions. To her horror, she'd realized last night that it wasn't entirely an act anymore. Whatever else he was, the captain was healthy, full of vigor, and an extremely capable... practitioner of the prurient arts. After spending the whole day trying to discover a way to escape from him, Ioke was stressed and in need of any release. Alone in the darkness, with no one there to judge them, she had to admit that what he did to her didn't feel entirely bad.

She wondered if this was how things had started between Marigold and Thule.

Officially, of course, it had been nothing of the sort. Marigold and Thule were supposed to be a couple that met and fell in love. For that matter, Dawn was only a minor character in Thule's memoir, officially relegated to the status of "mutual friend." Ioke knew that didn't begin to describe their relationship. That realization, combined with a few other inconsistencies she was personally aware of, led her to the conclusion that Thule's autobiography had been a lie pretty much from top to bottom.

She might have figured it out anyway. She'd known Marigold for as long as they'd gone to high school. For years, she'd been a social attack dog for whoever got to be queen bitch. Then, with only a handful of weeks left until graduation, she'd done a complete one eighty, walking away from Brianne and her cult to associate with Thule and his gang of social misfits.

It had never made sense to Ioke, but it hadn't completely come together until they were all together on Hana. Marigold, thinking herself subtle and clever, had dropped plenty of hints until it became clear to Ioke that her relationship with Thule had not started out completely consensual. At first, Ioke had been horrified. But she'd eventually come to tacitly approve and even consider the whole thing a bit romantic. After all, she'd never seen even two people together as happy as Thule, Marigold, and Dawn were. Who could argue with those results?

Ioke decided that it must not have started like this, then. Marigold had fallen in love with Thule. With Captain Morrison, she'd tried to make it like business. She imagined that she was Mata Hari, using her body to spy and tried to disassociate the physical pleasure from anything real or important.

It hadn't worked. The better the captain made her feel, the more she hated him. Every time he turned her body traitor against her, she wanted him dead. She couldn't completely convince herself that there was nothing wrong with reacting to his touch as if he were a lover and was coming to hate herself for it as well. The only thing that could make that feeling go away was if he were dead.

As these thoughts were going through her head, she realized that the captain had been rubbing her shoulders and back for her. His powerful hands were kneading away tension to the point where Ioke was almost ready to weep from relief. She had to remind herself that the tension was all his fault in order to keep her resolve.

"Mmmmmm..." she said. "Captain, you are a man of surprising talents. Where on Earth did you learn to do that?"

The captain chuckled, "I would rather not say. Ask me something else."

Ioke searched her head for a topic. Finally, the best she could come up with was, "What's your first name?"

His hands stopped moving, "Why do you want to know?"

Ioke felt she was treading on dangerous territory. In order to deflect the captain's attention, she pushed back against his hands so that the natural path put them over her breasts. She sighed at the touch.

"I'm just curious," said Ioke. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want. But, it would be nice to have something to call you besides 'Captain' when we're..." She let her words trail off as if she were embarrassed to say it.

He sighed, "It's James."

"James..." said Ioke as if she were tasting the name. Then, she sat up, "Wait. Your name is J..."

"James Morrison," said the captain firmly.

Ioke sat back against him, looking thoughtful. She wondered if she could get away with teasing him about it. Instead, she decided to punt, "Are you named after the singer?"

"Ioke," he said, sounding exasperated. "I'm fifty-two years old. I was a twenty year-old midshipman before anybody had heard of him."

"Oh," said Ioke, leaning her head against his shoulder so she could kiss his cheek. "Well, I don't know much about the classics. I just recognized the name."

The captain scowled, "Music from the seventies is not 'the classics.'"

"To me, it is," Ioke insisted. "I wasn't even born until 1984."

"Are you deliberately trying to make me feel old?" he asked.

Ioke turned, straddling his lap. She was straining credibility in her actions towards him, but really needed to sell it right now, "Not at all. You're as vigorous as a man half your age... I think."

She unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and kissed his chest. She was working on the second button and wondering if he would take the bait when he said, "What do you mean 'you think?'"

"Well," she said, running a finger down his chest. "A man half your age would be twenty-six. And, I've never been with anybody that old before you."

Now, the captain growled, pushed her off his lap, and pinned her to the couch on her back, "I'll show you 'old.'"

Ioke smiled to herself and stroked the captain's hair, gently guiding his head down her body. The captain looked up at her, suspicion in his eye. For the most part, she'd been passive in bed with him, giving as little feedback as possible on how things progressed. She gave him her best sheepish grin and tried to think of what to say that would credibly explain her sudden change of heart. Apparently, the grin was enough. The captain lowered his head again, kissing her stomach. He undid the zipper on her navy blue skirt and, when she raised her hips, stripped her naked in a single motion.

Again, she stroked his hair, guiding his head down her body, not wanting to be too insistent, which would almost certainly lead him to assert his control over her. But, she was afraid that Gayle would become impatient and make a break for it too soon. Fortunately, he seemed content to be guided, trailing a line of kisses down her belly until his head was between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his ears and, when she determined it was safe for Gayle to come out of the bedroom, let out a moan that she hoped could be heard through the door.

For a long time, nothing happened. She let out another moan, slightly louder. Every few seconds, she moaned again, each time slightly louder. The captain, seemingly encouraged, redoubled his effort, making it almost impossible for her to keep her attention focused on the door.

Finally, the bedroom door clicked open. Ioke went to press her legs more tightly around the captain's head only to realize that she'd already wrapped them as tightly as they were going to go. Gayle emerged in a crouch, crabwalking across the room. When she'd taken a few steps, she held up Ioke's address book and pointed at it, a questioning look on her face.

"Oh... yes!" Ioke said, nodding her head emphatically at Gayle.

Gayle continued to crabwalk to the hallway door. It didn't matter. The captain wouldn't have noticed if she'd goosestepped and sung "California Uber Alles." But, just in case, Ioke wrapped her whole body around his head and, at the moment Gayle clicked open the door to the hallway, cried out, "Oh, God. James."

Suddenly, the pressure of his tongue and the overwhelming physical pleasure receded. His body surged forward and it was all Ioke could do to fumble around for a critical second, keeping her ankles locked until the door clicked shut.

And then the captain was on top of her, kissing her once before unbuttoning his shirt, "I'll show you who's an old man."

As he unbuttoned his shirt, Ioke undid his pants, reasoning that she couldn't show such enthusiasm as she had and suddenly turn cold. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was inside of her, driving powerfully deeper with each thrust. It was an assault on her senses already frayed by the stress of the last few days and the pleasure she'd already felt. This time, she didn't bother to clamp down on the signals sent to her by her traitorous body. For a time, she let the world dissolve around her until there was nothing but sensation and pleasure.

"Did I ever tell you how I got involved with Thule and Marigold?" Dawn asked. She and Lin were sitting in the bathing pool off of Thule's bedroom.

"A little bit," said Lin, lounging in the opposite corner. "You told me that you threw yourself... towards him."

Dawn nodded, "Yeah, but even before I invited myself into their relationship, I invited myself into Thule's car."

Lin swam the distance between them in three strokes, "So, you were a ride mooch?"

"Always," said Dawn, laughing. "Even before that, I was mooching a ride with June Kane. She was... another cheerleader at Mannsborough. Then, one day, it came down the chain of command from Brianne, the head cheerleader, that June was to kick me out of her carpool and that I should ask Thule if I could ride with him."

"The chain of command?" asked Lin, grinning. "What was the cheerleading squad? Some kind of secret military organization?"

Dawn shook her head a little, "Not exactly. It was more paramilitary than anything else. And there was nothing secret about it. Brianne had her lieutenants and her inner circle and the rest of the squad. Thule pointed it out to me that, in social situations, we gathered around Brianne in concentric circles based on rank. And, when we moved through the halls en masse, we made one of those formations like Roman centurions did--the one that allowed them to approach archers and spear men."

"A phalanx?" Lin asked.

Dawn nodded, "Yeah--a phalanx... except with pom poms instead of shields."

Lin giggled. When Dawn looked at her questioningly, she giggled again.

"Sorry..." said Lin. "I just imagined the Roman army, all in shiny, bronze armor, plumed hats and pom poms."

Dawn laughed at the image, too. Then, she closed the distance, drew Lin to her, and kissed her gently on the mouth. One of Lin's hands came up, cradling the back of her head. When the kiss broke, Dawn stayed close, smiling at Lin.

In a very short time, she'd come to deeply enjoy having the new girl around. Like everyone at RSS, she intimidated Dawn a little with her accomplishments and mental acuity. She certainly knew more math than Dawn ever would. Even if she studied for the rest of her life, she would never be as comfortable around numbers as Lin was at sixteen. But, Lin rarely talked about math around Dawn and, when she did, she downplayed the importance of it.

Dawn realized that some of it was bound to be politeness. But, Lin genuinely seemed to see her skill as a vaguely embarrassing aside that made it awkward to live the life she wanted to live. She talked about being at MIT as if she woke up one morning with no idea how she'd gotten there and worried that it would forever retard her ability to socialize with most people.