Free The Ruby Dice by Catherine Asaro Page B

silver gleams.

    The ship scraped and shifted position as if warning them, impatient in its precarious balance. Kelric spoke to Jeremiah in a low voice. "We have to go."

    The youth nodded, his gaze on the woman.

    "Good-bye, beautiful scholar," she said.

    Jeremiah wiped a tear off his face. "Good-bye." Then he turned and climbed into the ship.

    With one hand on the hatchway, Kelric stared at the Coban man. The Third Level looked stunned, but his gaze never wavered.

    Kelric spoke to him in Teotecan. "Don't tell anyone. You know why."

    The man inclined his head in agreement, silent as he kept his Calanya Oath.

    Then Kelric boarded the scout.

V
Scholars' Dice

    Jeremiah sat in the copilot's seat while Kelric piloted the Dalstern. The youth said nothing, but he didn't barrier his emotions well. His pain scraped Kelric's mind. Kelric pretended to be absorbed in his controls, giving the fellow as much privacy as they could manage in the cramped cabin.

     

    An image of Jeremiah showed in a corner of Kelric's screen. The fellow hardly looked more than a boy. He wasn't tall, and his lean physique lacked the heavy musculature valued in Earth's culture. His rich brown hair was longer than most Allied men wore it. He had a wholesome, farm boy quality, and a shyness Kelric associated with scholars. Those traits might not have made him a male sex symbol on Earth, but Coba's women probably adored him. Quiet, brilliant, scholarly, fit but slender, neither too large nor too strong: he matched their most popular ideal of masculinity. Kelric had unfortunately fit another ideal, albeit one less common, the towering, aggressive male they wanted to tame.

    It didn't surprise him that Jeremiah's armbands differed from those worn by most Calani. Kelric recognized them because his were the same. Jeremiah was Akasi, the Manager's husband. Making him a Calani without his consent was coercion, which meant the union could be annulled if Jeremiah wanted. Whatever the youth decided, Kelric suspected it wouldn't be easy for him.

    Jeremiah sat with his eyes downcast, and Kelric busied himself with checks that didn't need doing. They were high enough now that the winds and abysmal port map didn't endanger the ship.

    Eventually, when Jeremiah began to look around, Kelric spoke in his clumsy Spanish. "Are you all right?"

    The youth answered in the same voice Kelric had heard over the Viasa comm. "Yes. Thank you for your trouble."

    "It is not so much trouble."

    "You could have been killed."

    Kelric suspected the biggest risk had been to the Calanya park. He would find a discreet means to recompense the Viasa Manager for repairs.

    "I have seen worse," Kelric said. "I expect to have beacon, though. It help that you know the transform for the coordinates." Without Jeremiah's quick thinking, he would have had to land blind. The Dalstern would have survived, but not whatever part of Viasa it hit.

    "I was guessing," Jeremiah said. Mortification came from his mind. "Playing dice with your life."

    Kelric wondered if the young man realized just what he had accomplished. "Such a problem take more than guesses."

    "I was lucky."

    Kelric's voice gentled. "You are not what I expect."

    Jeremiah watched him with large brown eyes that had probably turned the women of Coba into putty. "I'm not?"

    "The genius who make history when he win this famous prize at twenty-four?" With apology, Kelric added, "I expect you to have a large opinion of yourself. But it seems not that way."

    "I didn't deserve the Goldstone." Jeremiah hesitated. "Besides, that's hardly reason for your military to rescue me."

    "They know nothing about this." Kelric wasn't certain how much to tell him. "I take you to a civilian port. From there, we find you passage to Earth."

    Jeremiah's brow furrowed. "At Viasa you spoke in Teotecan. You even knew how to read my name from the Calanya bands. How?"

    Kelric thought of Ixpar, his wife, at least for one hundred and nine more days. He