IT WAS THE most boring voyage of Mekashe’s recent life. He’d been sent to represent the Cehn-Tahr government at a meeting of security experts who dealt with the safety of heads of state. Since Mekashe was captain of the Cehn-Tahr emperor Tnurat Alamantimichar’s Imperial Guard, he was the obvious person to attend.
But he was used to military routine, and this was far from that. It was an A-class cruise vessel, intended for use by the general public. Because it was more expensive than most transports, the people aboard tended to be from the highest level of their respective societies. It wasn’t commonly known, but Mekashe was a royal, a great-nephew of old Tnurat. His relationship to the emperor was why he was given the position of Imperial Guard Captain. Clan status denoted position. So when his best friend, Rhemun, followed Dtimun as the commander of the Holconcom, Mekashe was given Rhemun’s former position as captain of the guard. Clan status was the most important facet of the Cehn-Tahr’s rigid class culture.
Despite the relaxed atmosphere of the ship, which was uncomfortable, Mekashe did enjoy the observation deck. He could look out and see comets and meteors and distant stars as the huge vessel plowed its way through space. It was a novelty in his life, because the Imperial Guard was composed mostly of ground troops, elite infantry. The Holconcom, captained by his best friend, Rhemun, was more like space cavalry. The Holconcom was the most feared fighting force in the three galaxies, a specialized commando battalion on the flagship Morcai with both human and Cehn-Tahr personnel in an almost-equal mixture. Rhemun was bonded to the Morcai’s former Cularian medical specialist, Dr. Edris Mallory, and they had a son, Kipling. The boy was almost as talented with the Kahn-Bo fighting style as Mekashe, and he outclassed his father, Rhemun. He was so good that Mekashe—fleet champion in Kahn-Bo—had to work very hard to best him.
He thought about families. He had been mildly infatuated with Edris Mallory and spent much time talking to her, learning about human culture. Rhemun had been jealous. That was in the time before, when Rhemun was forced by Clan structure to take command of the Holconcom and captain the flagship Morcai. He had hated humans, and Dr. Mallory came in for a lot of harassment from him. That changed when she ran from a particularly painful argument and wound up at the lawless Benaski Port, hiding from everyone. She was attacked by a brothel owner while defending two little girls and left for dead. Rhemun had sent several members of his squad after the perpetrator, who was left in pieces. After that, he and Edris bonded. It had been a sad day in Mekashe’s life, because he adored the little blonde physician. But he was happy for his friend.
It was odd that he liked humans so much. In past times, Cehn-Tahr had been prejudiced toward outworlders. Ahkmau, the infamous Rojok prison camp, had changed all that. A combined crew of Cehn-Tahr and humans had been captured and held in the hellish concentration camp. Many had died regaining their freedom. It had drawn the two very different races close and led to the formation of the Morcai Battalion. The integrated group was a sentinel of racial tolerance in a sea of interstellar prejudice. It had done much to change attitudes in the three galaxies.
Now humans were family to the military Cehn-Tahr. Many of Mekashe’s comrades were as fascinated with the species as he was himself.
Mekashe had dreamed for most of his life about a blonde human female with exquisite features. But unlike Edris Mallory, who was short and delicate, Mekashe’s dream female was tall and willowy, and kindhearted. He had the gift of telepathy, which he shared only with the Royal Clan, of which he was part. Cehn-Tahr never publicized the ability among outworlders. In fact, they never spoke of their culture to anyone outside Memcache, the home planet of the Cehn-Tahr.
He wondered about the prophetic dream. Only Caneese, the bonded mate of the emperor, had such a great gift for seeing the future. It had not arisen in any other member of the Clan. But Mekashe often saw things before they happened. So the gift was at least present in him, if not as formidable as Caneese’s ability.
He was probably just dreaming, he thought, amused at his own weakness. His position gave him status among the Cehn-Tahr. Captain of the Imperial Guard was no small government job. It put him among planetal leaders, like Field Marshal Chacon, former field of the Rojok Army, who was now Premier of the Rojok Republic, having displaced the despot who had ruled after Mangus Lo. The depravity of the former Rojok government was something that Chacon was still having to live down. The death camp at Ahkmau had been hidden from everyone, even from Chacon, until he was forced to go there to save the Cehn-Tahr emperor’s daughter, Lyceria. In the course of that rescue, he had helped the humans and Cehn-Tahr of the Morcai Battalion to escape execution, as well. Now, in an irony of fate, Chacon was bonded to the emperor’s daughter. They were expecting their first child very soon. Gossip said that Chacon, that powerhouse of might, was pacing the floor and worrying himself to death, like any other prospective father. His passion for his mate had raised eyebrows, because Rojoks and Cehn-Tahr were traditional enemies. Now all sorts of new bonds were being formed. Homogenous cultures were becoming galactic ones, with the mixing. It produced some beautiful children. Kipling, Rhemun’s son, was one of those. He had long, curly blond hair—his father had long, curly black hair—and human features, but he had his father’s cat eyes that changed color with emotion. It was an exotic, fascinating blend of traits.
Mekashe would have liked a son, but he had found no Cehn-Tahr woman with whom he wanted to bond. The dreams of perfection, of that blonde phantom, haunted him. Probably, he reasoned, it was only a dream, and he would never meet...
“But I know it was this way!” a soft, feminine voice wailed, interrupting his thoughts. “I can’t believe this! Why isn’t there a map of the ship, or a holo, or anything...! Oh! Hello,” she said as she stopped just in front of Mekashe. “Sorry, I was just talking to myself. I do that, far too much. I’m lost. I’m lost! I was supposed to meet my father for dinner, and I can’t find him or the dining room or anything! I’m just hopeless!”
Mekashe’s