Special Assignment For Bauer

What Darcina did about her hair was to return to her room, with Bauer in tow, and have Lavella, her personal maid, braid her long hair into two long strands and loop them around to hang on both sides of her head like large, gold earrings. Lavella was roughly Darcina's age but her shoulder length hair was dark brown and her skin tone was olive. When Darcina introduced Bauer to her, the maid had responded with, "It is nice to meet you, Master Eric."

"Just Eric," Bauer replied with a grin.

But Darcina was not grinning. "Eric," she exclaimed in shock. "Lavella is a Trog. She can't call you just by your first name."

"A Trog?" Bauer repeated.

"A Troglyte," Darcina replied, speaking to Bauer but staring at her reflection in the mirror as she sat before her vanity. Lavella was standing behind her, working on the tall svelte blonde. "They are the ones who work the mines. The farms. And, some of the more intelligent ones, like Lavella, serve as domestic help up here in Stratos. Isn't that right, Lavella?"

"Yes, Miss Darcina," the woman answered.

"Now, when my father asks about my hair - and he will, I know," Darcina said to Bauer, "We tell him that we were on one of the balconies, and I was leaning forward when the wind suddenly whipped up and destroyed my 'do'. He will believe that because as a child he was constantly fussing at me about getting too close to the edge. Once, when I was six or so, he caught me walking on the parapet of one of the balconies. Like a tight-rope walker. It's one of the few times I can remember him actually being angry with me."

Sure enough, when Eric and Darcina entered the reception hall, the first words out of Ishlass's mouth were, "Dracina. You've changed your hair."

When she gave her alibi, the High Adviser chuckled. "You still like to live on the edge, don't you." Addressing Bauer, Ishlass told him, "Be careful she doesn't have you walking along a parapet. It is a long way down."

"And speaking of down," Commissioner Anderson said, "We are on our way to the surface to collect mine and Doctor Boyce's luggage from the cargo hold. The High Adviser has been gracious enough to invite us to stay in the palace as official guests."

"And Eric," Darcina added. When all eyes turned questionably to her, she explained. "While exploring the palace, he told me that he is the Middleman on his ship. His duties are to gain hands-on experience before being promoted to Second Officer."

Neither Smith nor Baeur corrected her that the Ensign was a 'Midshipman'; not a 'Middleman'.

"What better way for him to learn of our planet's culture than by staying with us?" she asked.

"Besides," she sighed, "the only guests we ever get are stuffy old diplomats . . . Uh, no offense Commissioner . . . Or disgusting Ore Ship Captains. It would be so nice to host a young Officer and Gentleman."

Ishlass could see the logic of what she was saying. With his wife dead, he did call on her all too frequently to fill in as First Lady. She should have the company of someone her own age. Looking at Commander Smith, Ishlass said, "Your call, Captain."

"Sure," he answered while putting on his service cap and 'squaring it' on his head, signalling he was ready to depart. "I suppose the ship can survive without its Middleman."

Once the party had reached the surface and Smith had contacted the Space Port foreman (a Trog) to get a team over to off-load the luggage, they further discussed the situation.

"Sir, if you don't mind," the Senior Guard from the CBC, Brett Gladden, said to Commissioner Anderson, "I would prefer not to stay up in the City but to remain onboard the ship with the funds for the Zenite."

Anderson had already decided that they would not turn over the diamonds and platinum until after they had loaded the life-saving mineral.

"May I offer a suggestion?" Smith asked Commissioner Anderson. "Why don't Guardian Gladden and Guardian O'Connell rotate? One spend twenty-four hours in Stratos with the other remaining onboard the 5-EX. Then the next day they could switch." Smith glanced towards Gladden, then returned his gaze to Anderson. "I can understand Guardian Gladden's concern. Although my people have established a perimeter and we can be airborne in minutes, the Guardians are the ones sent by the Central Banking Commission."

"That will work," Anderson nodded. "We will have a Guard from the CBC with the remuneration at all times, and we will have one on Stratos so as not to offend Ishlass."

"Sir," Guardian Gladden said to Anderson, "No disrespect intended, but I am the Senior Guardian. I prefer to be with the funds at all times."

Anderson looked at Smith who shrugged and said, "It's up to you, Commissioner. I was just pointing out an option. Although," again he glanced at Gladden, "It I was in his position, I would feel the same way."

"So it is settled," Commissioner Anderson announced. "O'Connell on Stratos. Gladden here. And . . . Are you sure it is o.k. with you to have Ensign Bauer staying in the Palace the whole time, Captain Smith?"

"Oh, absolutely," Commander Smith grinned. "If Princess Maimiti wants Mister Christian on Stratos, then she shall have him. We can't afford to offend Chief Hitihiti and be denied the breadfruit."

Of course, no one followed Smith's allusion to 'The Mutiny On The Bounty'.

That night, Eric had dinner in the palace with Ishlass, Darcina, Anderson, Doctor Boyce, and the guard O'Connell. Served, of course, by a Trog butler. Afterwards, Eric and Darcina slipped away to one of the numerous balconies of Stratos. The night sky was filled with stars, both above and beneath, as they floated high above the ground. It was a warm night with a gentle breeze. Far below, lights twinkled and one seemingly small spot of brightness was the flood lamps trained on his ship.

The young couple sat on a wrought-iron bench, hidden in the shadows, quietly talking. And kissing. Discussing their pasts. And groping. Speaking of the differences in their cultures. And kissing. Talking of the future. And hugging.

When it was finally time to go back inside, the front of Eric's pants had a wide wet spot of pre-cum on the front. Two of his fingers were slick with Darcina's vaginal secretions. Her hair was mussed and her lipstick kissed off. As they headed towards their bedrooms, Darcina whispered, "Give me an hour, and I will come to you."

A brief peck on the lips and she was gone.