Free Contact Imminent by Kristine Smith Page B

am now.” Lucien ignored her as he continued his housekeeping promenade, and she decided that in this particular instance, surrender was the better part of valor. “I’m sorry.” She tried to think of a bright side. “If it’s any consolation, Val had you figured out before I opened my mouth. He doesn’t fool easily.”
    â€œThat’s all right. I love a challenge.” Lucien gave a chair one last shove-into-place. “I need to get back to Sheridan.” He headed for the door, but at the last moment he slowed, then turned and approached the couch. “You want him to be real, don’t you?” Sunshine streamed through the skylight, lightening his hair until it looked as white as John’s. “The hybrid boy. You want him to be real and you’re afraid that he’s not.”
    Jani opened her mouth to protest, but no words emerged. As usual, Lucien got right to the heart of the matter, then grabbed and twisted. “It’s a mistake to get one’s hopes up,” she said after a time. “I learned that the hard way.”
    â€œIf it’s any consolation, two hybrids would upset people twice as much as one.” Lucien drew alongside the couch, then leaned over. “Even more than that, considering that one is you.” He kissed her, softly at first, then not softly at all, leaving her breathless as he slipped away without another word.
    â€œAu revoir, mon capitain.” Jani regarded the closed door as the minutes passed, and gradually another sensation took hold. Less painful than love, less urgent than lust, yet in its own way as implacable, as undeniable.
    She held up her hand, imagined the hybrid boy’s still hanging in the air before her. Saw them meet, felt warm flesh instead of cool light. Pressed hard, palm against palm, finger against finger, each matching as though they mirrored one another.
    â€œI always wondered what it would have been like to have a brother.” She lay there, holding her hand in place until sleep claimed her.

CHAPTER 5
    A muddle of images. Wode’s face as he turned to the sound of Pullman’s shout, melting into that of Feres, the dead Vynshàrau.
    A sound. A name. Her name.
    Jani.
    Feres’s face shortening. Widening. The eyes altering from gold to green, sclera paling, whitening, changing—
    Jani?
    â€”to a face she knew well though she’d seen it only once. A young face with filmed eyes, humanish films that covered, but not well enough—
    â€œJani.”
    Jani opened her eyes.
    â€œJesus, gel.” Niall Pierce released a shaky sigh. “You weren’t waking up and you weren’t waking up. I thought I’d have to call Shroud.” He sat on the edge of the low table, one hand braced on the couch cushion near Jani’s head. “I’ve been jawing at you for five minutes—didn’t you hear me?”
    â€œI fell—” Jani stared above her head at the view through the skylight, and saw only dark slate grey where there’d once been sunlit blue. “Oh, damn.”
    â€œOh damn is right.” Niall sat back, his expression lightening as he realized she was conscious and aware of her surroundings. “It’s a little after nineteen. You slept most of the day away.” He offered a fangy grin. “Join the club. I called Pull’s folks from the doctors’ lounge, then sat back to take a breather. Too many hours later…” He shook his head. “One of the neuros ordered them to let me sleep. Damned augie. After I woke up, I shambled to the office. Far North Lakeside was a beehive, of course. Sat through nine meetings in as many hours, then decided the hell with it and bolted.”
    Jani tossed back her coat, which had served as a coverlet, and slowly sat up. “How’s Pull?”
    â€œAwake, but bleary.” Niall reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his nicstick case. “Doesn’t remember