+------------------------------------------------------+ | This work is licenced under a Creative Commons | | Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 3. 0 | | Licence. | | | | http://creativecommons. Org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3. 0/ | +------------------------------------------------------+

TEAMS

A Terran Empire story

by Ann Wilson

Copyright (C) 1992 by Ann Wilson

Narvon III, 2277 CE

Marine Captain Jase Thompson enjoyed Evaluation Team duty, and thisparticular assignment appealed to what his team members called hiswarped sense of humor. This had started out as an odd one; it was theArchbishop of Narvon III, rather than its Baron or the System Count, who had pushed the panic button. He'd appealed to the Emperor for abattle fleet, with a full complement of Security and Combat DivisionMarines, claiming civil war was breaking out because of something thatwas turning Narvon System's "best people" into "bloodsucking servantsof the Devil. "

Captain Thompson had no idea what His Majesty thought about thesituation, but he was skeptical, himself. Still, no one asked for thatsort of intervention without some reason; it was up to the E-Team tofind out whether the reason was valid, and if so what degree ofintervention was really justified. He certainly didn't want to call ina fleet--no E-Team leader did--but he would if he had to. Then he'dhope that the Ranger or Fleet Admiral in charge overruled him; hedidn't like thinking what military occupation could do to the occupiedsystem. Not that the situation was likely to be that bad. 

Thompson sighed, checking the clock and deciding he'd better get backto the bridge; the Koslov's Captain--Navy Lieutenant Inga Sanchez--should have the pre-landing surveillance reports for him by now. 

She gave him a rueful shake of the head as he entered her small bridge. "It's peaceful as Terra down there, Jase. No trace of active weaponry, no civil disturbances our sensors can detect, no fires involvingartificial substances--no nothing. "

Thompson grinned. "Sounds good to me, Inga. What about news reports, entertainment broadcasts, that sort of thing?"

Sanchez grinned back. "Just as normal, except for a couple ofoddities. The holos aren't carrying any 'casts of contact sports, andon a talk show, one of the guests had fangs; the others were acting alittle nervous, but she was telling them how harmless she and the other`Kins of the Dragon' really were. " Sanchez touched a control on the armof her command chair. "Watch. "

The Captain's monitor screen lit up to show several people seated in agroup of comfortable-looking chairs around a low table, and Thompsonrepressed a chuckle. Talk shows seemed to be the same everywhere, hethought--then one of the guests caught his attention. She wasattractive, wearing the uniform of a System Security officer--Chief ofDetectives, from her badge--except that she was more than slim, shelooked damned near starved. 

"How do you feel about the Kins who were killed, Chief Kaufman, andwhat do you plan to do with the ones who killed them?" a man--Thompsonguessed him to be the show's host--asked. 

The woman shrugged slightly. "My personal feelings have no bearing; Iplan to deal with them as I would with any other murderers, how else?I am an officer of the law. "

"You don't have any desire for revenge? After all, the killings wererather . . . Unpleasant. "

The detective chief grimaced. "Yes, they were. But I can't takerevenge, any more than I can feed on someone who doesn't want me to--itshould be common knowledge by now that Kins feel any pain wedeliberately inflict. "

"But you can feed on someone who's not willing, or kill; Kins have doneit. "

"We can, yes; I've killed in the line of duty since I became a Kin, which was bearable because I knew that not killing would cause moreharm later. And I did try to feed on someone who didn't want me, once--I suppose most Kins have--but I'd rather starve into coma than trythat again. Thank the Prince I didn't really hurt him, but I did feelevery bit of his terror. "

"Looks like she's doing just that, too, " Thompson commented. It didn'tlook like much intervention, if any at all, would be needed--not withthe `servants of the Devil' appearing on talk shows trying to reassurepeople and looking like death warmed over. "What the hell do they dofor food, then?"

Sanchez advanced the recording, then started playing it again. "--willing Donors, " the detective chief was saying. "We feel pain weinflict deliberately, yes--but we can also project feelings. Ifsomebody's willing to feed me, I can let . . . Feel thesatisfaction--even, if @'s willing enough, the ecstasy--I do when Ifeed. And I certainly wouldn't take enough to hurt, or even toweaken, . . . !"

Sanchez shut off the recording. "You know, I believe her. "

"So do I, " Thompson said thoughtfully. "I do still have toinvestigate, of course, but I'd say from this that there's no crisisbig enough to call in even a squadron for. "

 * * * * *

The E-Team's landing wasn't the covert operation Thompson hadoriginally planned; instead, the Koslov called for clearance, and theylanded at the main spaceport, where Thompson and his team disembarkedin full uniform, complete with sidearms. He didn't particularly likeweapons, but procedure called for E-Teams to carry them unless doing sowould be more dangerous than not, which didn't seem to be the casehere. 

Landing openly, even an E-Team had to go through Customs and Health, which was routine enough until a tech told Thompson that he neededblood samples to test for susceptibility to the nosferatu pseudo-virus. 

"What's that?" Thompson asked. 

"What makes humans into Kins, " the tech said, sounding as if he weretelling them something they should already know. "If you'resusceptible, and if the virus gets into your bloodstream, and ifsomething seriously weakens your system more than twenty-four standardhours later, you turn into a Kin. The Count's orders are that anyonefrom out-system be tested and warned, so if they are susceptible, theycan leave before exposure is possible. " The tech shrugged. "Odds arenone of you will be, though; no one I've tested has been, and so far itlooks like only one percent--maybe less--are. "

"We all have full-spectrum immunizations, " Thompson pointed out. 

"I know. But the pseudo-virus isn't one of the things full-spectrumworks against. "

"Okay. " Thompson extended his arm and let the tech take his sample. When the rest of his team had followed suit, the tech sent them to awaiting room until the results were back, probably in less than anhour. Thompson posted the newest team member with their luggage, senthis second-in-command to a phone to make arrangements for them to bequartered in the System Palace, then told the rest to spread out andstart up conversations with the others in the room, all of whom lookedlike locals. 

Not that he really had to give them orders any more, he thought. Allexcept Corporal Nkomo--who'd replaced Corporal van Breda, killed on anearlier mission--had been with him for at least four years; they weremore of a family than a military unit, although they were careful tomaintain protocol with anyone else around. Thompson knew he had areputation for being overly concerned with his people's welfare, especially since he'd turned down promotion to stay with his team, buthe preferred being called a mother hen to taking command of a largerunit that would give him less personal satisfaction. 

While his people circulated, Thompson leafed through several of thenewsjournals that seemed to be an inevitable part of every waitingroom. He started with the oldest, published about six weeks ago, discovering that the Archbishop's basic facts were accurate. There hadbeen riots, all right, when some kind of laboratory accident andexplosion had released the pseudo-virus and created the first Kins ofthe Dragon. They'd called themselves that from the very beginning, itseemed, which Thompson found intriguing--and it was discovered almostimmediately that they had to drink blood to survive. Preferably humanblood, taken directly from a donor's carotid, though they could managefor short times on packaged or even animal blood. Normal food madethem violently ill, and strong spices caused anaphylactic shock, usually fatal. To balance those limitations, they developed greatphysical strength and endurance, as well as the responsive andprojective forms of empathy the detective chief had mentioned. 

Unfortunately, the first reaction to the Kins had been horror. Thompson could understand that, though he didn't share it; psych testskept people who couldn't overcome such feelings out of Imperialservice. He was more intrigued than frightened by the idea of a Kindrinking some of his blood, and according to the journals, mostNarvonese had felt the same way after the initial shock had wornoff--especially those who'd had friends or relatives affected. 

But there had been enough whose horror had persisted to cause thetrouble that had inspired the Archbishop's appeal. Riots had brokenout in all but the smallest towns, Kins had been brutally murdered byimpalement, decapitation, poisoning, incineration--but that trouble hadtapered off dramatically, starting about a week after the Archbishop'scall, when all three Planetary Barons and the System Count announcedthat they had been infected and become Kins themselves. Thompson foundthat amusing, if almost inevitable; once Imperial nobility embracedsomething new, most of the people in their fiefs followed suit. Bynow, attacks on Kins were down to scattered incidents, and it lookedlike they'd taper off to almost nothing soon. 

In fact, public opinion had made almost a complete reversal from theinitial near-universal horror. In spite of some lingeringapprehension, Kins were rapidly becoming respected and even envied--aprocess speeded by the fact that many of them had been that way tobegin with. The Archbishop had been right in his report that it wasthe "best people" who were becoming Kins. Not "best" in the sense ofrichest or most powerful, although some were, but in the sense ofcontributing most to society. Kins overwhelmingly came from groupslike doctors, police officers, religious, and others who were devotedto some form of service; none came from criminal or other anti-socialelements, and only a few from generally-neutral groups. Theapproximately one-percent figure the tech had mentioned seemedaccurate, so not all members of even the highest-incidence groups wereKins--but it was enough to convince Thompson that such an oddlyselective disease called for scientific investigation, rather thanmilitary intervention. It wouldn't surprise him to see the Kins becomeNarvon System's local nobility, either. 

"Captain Thompson?"

He looked up from the journal to see the tech approaching, and hispeople breaking off their conversations to join them. Waiting untilhis team had gathered around, he asked the tech, "What results?"

"One susceptible, Captain, " the tech said, his expression unreadable. "You. "

Thompson was silent for a moment, then said, "Oh, Chaos. " He wouldn'tmind letting a Kin drink from him, but he had no desire to become one, even with the social status they seemed to be gaining. He didn't knowjust how much blood a Kin needed, but he was positive it was more thanhis team could supply, and probably more than anything short of a baseor mid-sized ship could handle; if he became one, he'd lose his team, maybe even have to be discharged. "You said the virus has to get intomy bloodstream to infect me?"

"Yes, sir--well, or into your digestive tract. But it's hard to getinfected accidentally, except in a lab explosion like the originalones; most Kins got that way feeding a friend or family member. Andthen you have to be seriously weakened for it to change you. So if youdon't feed any Kins, or if you do and then don't get badly hurt orsick, you'll stay just the way you are. "

"Thank you. " That was better; he could still lead this mission safely. He turned to his second-in-command. "Report. "

"We have quarters at the System Palace, " Gunnery Sergeant Audra Kingsaid. "Count Nilssun was expecting us, and wants to see you at yourearliest convenience. She's sent transportation and an escort. "

"She expected an E-Team?" No one was supposed to know about an E-Team, not even the person who'd called for help; teams that came in openly, like his, had covers that would allow them to go around askingquestions about anything and everything. 

"Yes, sir. " King gave her team leader a wry grin. "I'm afraid she wasin IntelDiv herself, on an E-Team, before her brother died and she wasnamed to succeed. I'd guess one of her former teammates let her knowwe were assigned here. "

That sounded likely; it was just a good thing the problem had solveditself before his team had to file its evaluation. "Was she upset?"

"No, sir. Pleased. "

"That's good, I suppose. " Thompson kept from scowling by an effort ofwill. "When's the transport supposed to get here?"

"Should be already, sir. "

"It figures. " If the Count had expected them, she'd probably givenorders that she be notified when ten Marines arrived; being formerE-Team herself, she'd be able to guess that with the primary danger past, they'd be likely to come in openly. "Main entrance?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Okay, let's go. "

 * * * * *

They were taken to the System Palace in a luxury limousine, with adozen System Security troops riding escort on gravcycles, then settledinto a decade apartments in the Palace's guest wing. Thompson changedinto dress blues, and wasn't surprised, moments after he was finished, to hear a knock on his door. "Enter, " he called. 

The door opened, and a man in black and silver livery bowed to him. "My Lady Count's compliments, Captain Thompson. She invites you to heroffice to discuss your mission; if you will come with me?"

Thompson nodded shortly, and followed the man to an office whose opendoor was flanked by a pair of System Security officers. He entered, and the door closed behind him as he came to attention facing the womanstanding behind the desk. "Captain Jase Thompson, my Lady Count. "

"You may be seated, Captain. " The Count gestured to a comfortable-lookingleather armchair, and took her own seat as Thompson sat. "Now--you camehere to investigate a report of rioting, did you not?"

"You know I did, my Lady. "

"And what will your report to His Majesty say?"

"That no intervention is required, of course. "

"No, Captain, it will not. " Count Nilssun smiled, and Thompson foundhimself admiring her fangs, with an uncomfortable certainty that sheknew what he was thinking. "Since you are head of an E-Team, I'm sureyou saw at least part of yesterday's `Narvon Tonight, ' and read thespaceport newsjournals while you were waiting for your test results. Ihope you weren't too distressed at finding yourself susceptible. "

"Not overly, my Lady. " She'd been IntelDiv, all right, Thompsonthought. E-Team, yes, but he'd be willing to bet she'd been a fieldagent before that--and that she'd set up the interview with her Chiefof Detectives and had a complete set of journals waiting for him. She'd know better than to try misleading him, with her background, butThompson could understand her setting things up to let him getinformation without too much effort. And something in the informationshe'd arranged for him would tell him why she said his report would askfor some kind of intervention. 

He was starting to enjoy himself. This was the sort of puzzle IntelDivpeople liked to set up for each other, and it let him be sure there wasnothing seriously wrong. "Let me see. You couldn't have known I'msusceptible to the pseudo-virus, since this is the only system thattests for that, which means it has no bearing. "

"Correct. "

"Okay. " Thompson thought back. "The journals were a prettystraight-forward account, so you probably set them up just to give mebackground. The key has to be the interview, then. " He saw her nodslightly, and concentrated. "The Empire can't do much about yourfeeding problem, if you need mostly fresh blood, so that's not iteither. Oh!" He nodded, realizing. "You can't deliberately hurtanyone, which means you'd have a hard time defending yourselves fromanything, criminals to a full-scale invasion. You need an Imperialmilitary presence, probably a Sub-Sector or Sector-level base. Maybepolice, too, though Narvonese who aren't Kins may be able to handlethat. "

The Count looked pleased. "Exactly, Captain. I do need a full-scalebase, and the Empire has none in this Sector as yet. Debate on whereto place one is evenly balanced between this system and Argyros; yourreport on our limitation will swing that debate in our favor. "

It sure would, Thompson thought. Given equal merit, the Empirepreferred to site bases and jobs where the need was greatest, and acompletely vulnerable system needed a base far more than one likeArgyros, which could defend itself at least until reinforcements couldarrive. 

"As for police, " the Count went on, "yes, non-Kins can handle most ofwhat Kins cannot--but I have already begun trying to recruit SecurityDivision veterans. Non-susceptible ones, of course. "

Thompson grinned appreciation. Former SecuDiv Marines made the bestpolice available, if you were willing to let them do the job you paidthem for; if you didn't, they'd probably consider it a breach ofcontract and leave. Not too many people were willing to deal withsomeone who'd alienated such police, so that was a definite point inthe Count's favor. "I'll be glad to recommend construction of a base, then, my Lady. "

"Excellent. " The Count leaned forward, her expression serious. "Asyou have deduced, Captain, I was once a field agent, and I had this setup to give you the maximum amount of information in the minimum amountof time. I can see from your reactions that you also know I want morefrom you than a base, now that I have learned of your susceptibility. "She smiled, showing those tempting fangs again. "And that you aretrying to avoid thinking about it, because you want it as well. "

Thompson tried to keep his face impassive, even though he knewperfectly well that it was useless, with a field agent reading him. Dammit, a man was entitled to his privacy! "By my Lady Count's leave, I must remind her that my responsibilities to my team outweigh mypersonal desires. "

Count Nilssun leaned back with a sigh. "Formality doesn't changethings, Captain. You want to feed a Kin, and I have to send a LiaisonOfficer to the Imperial Palace to represent Narvon System; a Kin whowas head of the team sent here to investigate us would be ideal, from apublic relations viewpoint. I can't force you, as you are wellaware--but I needn't be the one who introduces the virus, or who weakensyou so you will Change. I am perfectly capable of requesting that youand your team be stationed here indefinitely, then surrounding you withKins until you can no longer resist your own desires. "

Thompson's jaw tightened. "My Lady Count may of course do as shethinks best--but I will, equally of course, protest any such orders. "

The Count stood, and Thompson had to follow suit. "So be it, then, Captain, although I had hoped you would be more reasonable. You haveleave to use the Palace ultrawave for your protest--after I have madethe initial request. " She smiled, this time almost sadly and withoutrevealing her fangs. "I can sense hidden depths within you, Captain, and I would like to be the one to bring them to the surface. Shouldyou ever decide you want to see me, I will grant you an audience assoon as I can. "

Thompson was unwillingly impressed; an Imperial Count's time was worthconsiderably more than a Marine Captain's. That didn't make enoughdifference to change his mind, though. "By the Count's leave, I wouldlike to return to my people. "

"Permission granted, Captain. But please remember, I am not doing thisout of hostility; I do what I do only because I think it best for myown people. "

 * * * * *

Returning to his assigned apartment, Thompson changed back into serviceblack. He wasn't sure whether to be angry or flattered at the Count'sintentions for him; at the moment, he felt a bit of both. She wastrying to take him away from his team, but on the other hand, shewanted him to become Liaison Officer for an entire system--which, beingprimarily ceremonial in nature, was a less responsible, but far moreprestigious, position. And, though he was reluctant to admit it evento himself, he was more than a little tempted by the prospect of--

Resolutely, he blanked out the inviting image of Kin fangs, and went toknock on King's door. She had evidently been going through thelibrary; when she let him in he saw tapes on the coffee table, and morein the delivery tray. "Research again, Audra?"

"Uh-huh. What's up, Cap?"

He described his conversation with the Count, then scowled, knowingAudra wouldn't take it as aimed at her. "I'd try to get back to theship, but she'd anticipate that. I'm afraid we're stuck here untileither she decides on someone else as liaison, or I let myself beturned into a Kin. "

King looked thoughtful, hesitating before she spoke. "Cap . . . Wecould all use a leave, and this isn't half bad. "

Thompson chuckled, startled into real humor. "True, Audra. And wewon't get too many chances at living in a System Palace; pass the wordto take full advantage of it. "

"Will do, Cap. Anything we should do when her Ladyship starts settingKins on you?"

"I don't think so, " Thompson said, "unless you can arrange for someoneto be on hand to interrupt if things get touchy. They won't hurt me, or even try to; from what I've read and been told, they can't. But . . . Audra, I may need--well, protection from myself. I . . . It's hardfor me not to--"

King nodded understandingly. "They are tempting, aren't they? Cap, inyour position I wouldn't hesitate; I'd donate, and enjoy the hell outof myself, even if it meant I'd have to stay here. " She gestured tothe tapes she'd been studying. "This system is in the beginning of amajor social change, one that ought to be absolutely fascinating. "

"I'm sure it would, if I shared your interest in sociology, " Thompsonsaid drily. Audra was the team's socio spec, and kept trying to getthe rest as interested as she was. "But I'll be damned if I'llvoluntarily do anything to take myself off this team, or out of theservice. "

"If you're given the choice, no. But--" King raised a cautionaryhand--"if the Count's as determined as you say, it may not be your choice. They have something called projective empathy, according to thesetapes, and they can use it to make you feel anything they want you tofeel. Especially if it reinforces something you already feel a little. "

"And I already want to donate. Yeah, I see what you mean. HerLadyship could have taken me already--and made me like it. I wonderwhy she didn't. " Another thought struck him, and he looked sharply athis second-in-command. "Our hostess was a field agent, Audra. Were anyof these tapes waiting for you?"

King looked startled, then nodded. "Two of them, yes. And one answersyour question--they don't know how long the effects of the projectiveempathy last. Which may mean they won't use it to infect or change youfor fear it'll backfire on them. "

That made sense, Thompson thought. Her Ladyship had to know that aMarine who realized @'d been coerced into a decision, even gently, would rebel against both the decision and the coercer. "Then I'd saythey won't go beyond persuasion and the temptation her Ladyshippromised--or threatened me with. "

King nodded, her expression troubled. "There's another aspect, Cap, one you may not be thinking about. At least it's something I've neverknown you to be concerned with--but these tapes make it pretty clearthat feeding is . . . Well--"

"That's enough, " Thompson interrupted shortly. He'd been trying toavoid thinking about that aspect; what had made Audra bring it up? Itwas a personal problem, a reason as important as what he'd spokenopenly about for his reluctance to donate--the reason he had opted outof his original assignment selection when he'd found out what itinvolved. The idea of casual liaisons left him cold; the only peoplehe felt close enough to want intimacy with were the members of histeam--and regulations forbade that. So although he certainly didn'tlack it, he'd never shown any outward interest in sex. 

"No offense intended, Cap. Sorry. "

"None taken, Audra; you just pushed the wrong button. " Thompson took adeep breath. "And you haven't mentioned one factor that's damned hardfor me to resist. " He couldn't help thinking about the detective chiefhe'd seen on holo. "Some of these Kins, at least, aren't much morethan skin and bones. I could provide a meal for one of them, yes--andI would, gladly, if it wouldn't change me into one of them. Hell, if Icould, I'd feed 'em as often as my body would tolerate the blood loss!"

 * * * * *

The Count didn't waste any time acting on her intention; she hadThompson summoned to the Palace communications section, where shecalled HQMC and requested the E-Team's indefinite assignment to NarvonSystem. Thompson filed his protest immediately, but it had no moreeffect than he'd expected; he and his team were assigned to the Count'scommand. 

She turned to him when the tech broke contact. "I don't think you willfind my first commands too unpleasant, Captain. I would like you andyour people to consider yourselves my guests; you are welcome to fulluse of all Palace facilities. I would also like you to attend aget-acquainted party tomorrow night. "

Thompson had resigned himself to spending at least several weeks inthis system; he found himself grateful that the Count was making it aspleasant as possible for them. "Thank you, my Lady. We'll be there;should we wear blues or civvies?"

"Whichever you choose, Captain. It will be semi-formal. "

 * * * * *

Thompson wore blues, more for the illusory protection of the dressuniform's high collar than for any other reason; the rest of his teamopted for civilian wear. He thought King looked particularly sharp inthe shimmer-cloth culotte outfit she'd had the fabricator make, andalmost as soon as their group entered the Grand Ballroom he saw that hewasn't the only one. Several Kins, ranging from almost normal physiqueto near-starvation gauntness, surrounded her and began an animatedconversation. Others started discussions with the rest of his team, leaving Thompson himself momentarily alone. 

That didn't last long, however. The Count joined him, accompanied byhalf a dozen other Kins who she introduced as her Planetary Barons, herChief of System Security, and the Head Nurse of the Palace medcenter. "And you've already seen Detective Chief Enna Kaufman, " the Countfinished. 

Thompson acknowledged the introductions with a certain amount ofdiscomfort. He wasn't used to associating with the nobility, and itwas unsettling for him to feel the restrained hunger they all radiated. The two Security people were in the worst shape, and a moment's thoughttold Thompson it made sense; their jobs were unlikely to bring theminto much contact with people willing to let them feed. 

As they chatted about inconsequentials, Thompson had to keep himselffrom staring at the Kins' mouths, or getting within touching range. The Count had read him all too accurately; while one Kin was relativelyeasy to resist, seven--two of whom were near starvation--made it anentirely different case, even though they weren't doing anything butstand there and converse. He was far too aware not only of theirhunger, but of his urge to satisfy it. How the hell was he going toresist this kind of pressure even for however long the party lasted, much less for weeks or maybe months? He sipped at a drink he'd takenfrom a passing waiter's tray, wishing for some excuse to leave, but hecouldn't think of any. He couldn't even fall back on the Corps'informal motto, because there was no dishonor involved. 

"At least your teammates aren't refusing to enjoy what we can do forthem, " Kaufman said, gesturing as she chuckled. 

Thompson turned, to see Sergeant Gottfried--his communicationsexpert--in the arms of a tall, equally Nordic-looking man, her expressionalmost ecstatic as the Kin's mouth worked at her throat. Nearby he sawAudra, pale but looking pleased, with a petite Polynesian-looking Kinbeing obviously solicitous of her. Thompson shook his head ruefully, then turned back to his group. "It looks like you have a few moredonors, at least as long as we're assigned here. " He hesitated, tryingto decide whether he should go on, but the Count made that decision forhim. 

"Go on, Captain. I can see you have more to say. "

"Yes, sir. " Thompson took a breath, then did so. "As I told SergeantKing, I'd donate myself, as often as I could, except that I'm told thatif I do it even once, I'll become a Kin. And that would cost me mycareer, something I'm not willing to give up. "

"More to the point, " the Count said, "you think it would cost you yourteam. "

Dammit, Thompson thought, couldn't she give him any slack? "The onlyway it wouldn't, my Lady, is if you got the Emperor to assign them herepermanently--which would ruin their careers. I say again, myresponsibilities to my team outweigh my personal desires. "

He hadn't kept his distance carefully enough; Kaufman touched hisshoulder, then his throat, and he shivered with the promise of it. "Captain, " she said softly, "would it really be that bad, staying inthis system? The human race, after all, was restricted to one planetfor millions of years, and most people still remain planetbound fortheir entire lives. Believe me, Narvon System can provide enoughchallenge for you and your team. Have you asked them whether theywould consider staying here with you?"

"No, I haven't, " Thompson admitted. But he had to add, "I wouldn't, either, because I'm afraid they'd think I was pressuring them. "

Kaufman eased her hand to the other side of his neck, and Thompsonmoved closer without quite realizing it. "Look at them, my friend. They're feeling good, and I can assure you that anyone who's donated toone of us once wants to do it again. " She chuckled. "The kind ofpleasure we can give is unique, and you want the best possible for yourpeople; wouldn't you like to give them feeding-pleasure yourself, asoften as you could do it without endangering their health?"

That gave Thompson an entirely different point of view, and he movedstill closer to the Kin, again without realizing it. "Yes . . . Yes, Iwould. " He did want the best for his people, and if he could get thatin a way that also let him be even closer to them--

He felt lips at his throat, hard sharpness under their warmth, and knewhe'd surrendered. 

Then a large hand closed on his shoulder and he was pulled away, tostumble back against Corporal Nkomo's chest. "What--"

"No marks, sir; you're safe. "

Thompson took a deep breath, coming back to reality as his teamsurrounded him. It seemed he'd been right when he told Audra he mightneed protection from himself. "Thanks, Corporal. And the rest ofyou. "

"No problem, sir. Sergeant King said this might happen. "

The Count smiled ruefully. "You have a very well trained team, CaptainThompson--but they cannot be around you all the time. Sooner or later, you will give in to your own desire. "

He'd already come too close for comfort, Thompson thought bitterly. The worst part of it was that it was himself he was fighting, not theCount--and whichever way the fight went, he lost. "That may be, myLady, but they're here now. And they'll keep me from doing anythingI'd regret later. "

"Indeed, " the Count said politely. "Then you will stay and enjoy therest of the party. "

That was an order, Thompson knew, not a request. "As my Lady Countwishes, " he said, trying to conceal resentment from the others, if notfrom the Count herself. 

"Good. " The Count signalled a waiter, who approached carrying a trayloaded with foam-topped mugs. "Your records say you have a fondnessfor New Bavarian beer, something I doubt you can find very often. Ican recommend this; it is their Oktoberfest Doppelbock, a brew Ienjoyed myself before becoming a Kin. "

Thompson didn't doubt that; it was a brew he'd heard quite a lot about, though he'd never been able to afford any. He reached for a mug, shaking his head when Nkomo tried to restrain him. "It's okay, Corporal. I'm in danger of becoming a Kin, not being poisoned. But ifit'd make you feel better, you can taste it before I have any. "

"I'll do that, sir. " Nkomo took a deep drink, then handed the mug toThompson, shaking his head. "Whoo! That's beer?"

"It certainly is, " the Count said with obvious amusement. "Ratherpotent beer, I might add, though it is also quite smooth. Feel free todrink all you wish; my medcenter has considerable experience treatinghangovers. "

With that, the group of Kins broke up and began circulating. Thompsontook a hearty drink from the mug he held, while the rest of the teamtook advantage of the Count's offer, accepting mugs of their own fromthe waiter. Not at all to his surprise, he saw that all of them hadfang marks on their throats; when Nkomo lowered his mug, Thompsonindicated the marks. "How was it?"

Nkomo rubbed the marks, grinning. "It was great, sir--like nothingI've ever felt before. I'm going to do it again, as often as they'lllet me. " He gestured resignation. "Not as often as I'd like, but theone who fed on me says they don't take chances on their donors' health;even if I dose with rapid-heal, which I intend to, I'm not allowed todonate more than once every four tendays. What they call a Class FourDonor. "

That seemed to be about average, Thompson found. Gottfried was a ClassThree, King a Class One, and all the rest were Fours like Nkomo. Alsolike Nkomo, all of them intended to repeat the experience as often asthey were allowed to. "And if you do become a Kin, " King told him, "wewant you to be the one who feeds from us. Mine said that it's goodwith any Kin, but best with someone you know and like or respect. Andthat a custom is developing for a Kin who leads a regular group ofDonors to be responsible for taking care of them that way. "

Thompson raised an eyebrow. "The Kin is responsible for feeding on@'s people?"

"Yes, sir. If you'd Donated, you wouldn't be questioning it, either. "

"Maybe not, " Thompson conceded. It did seem to make an odd sort ofsense . . . But he didn't care to find out. "That's academic for themoment, though, so let's do what her Ladyship said, and enjoy theparty. "

 * * * * *

The next morning, Thompson woke feeling hungry. That was somethingthat almost never happened, especially when he'd been drinking thenight before; breakfast, for him, was seldom more than a cup of coffeeand maybe an English muffin. Well, he knew where the guest dining roomwas, he told himself, and it was likely that Audra would be eatingthere; the rest were more likely to eat with the System Security troopsin their chow hall. 

She wasn't there, so Thompson took a small table and began scanning themenu as soon as he'd punched for coffee. That was delivered by a humanwaiter, not too surprising in a System Palace dining room, and Thompsonwas giving his order when King walked in. She looked surprised, butjoined him at his gesture and ordered her usual Spanish omelet, toast, and coffee. It wouldn't be quite like the same items on any otherworld, but it was always how she started the day. 

When their food came and Thompson cleaned his plate, then signalled fora second helping while she was barely halfway through, King gave hercommanding officer a quizzical look. "Is everything all right, Cap?"

"Fine, as far as I know, " Thompson said. "I'm just hungry. "

"Hungry enough to eat two breakfasts when you normally don't eat any. "King frowned. "Cap--did Carlo pull you away before that detectivechief got her fangs into you?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because some of the tapes I dug out--not the ones her Ladyship leftfor me--say that some susceptibles get hungrier than usual afterthey've become infected. But if she didn't bite you, you can't beinfected. "

Thompson set down the coffee cup he'd just picked up, an unpleasantthought forming. "I . . . Don't know about that, " he said slowly. "Imay have a nasty mind, but I can't forget that our gracious hostessused to be a field agent. "

"And field agents don't exactly have the same standards as the rest ofthe Imperial services. " King hesitated. "Cap, you don't think she'd--"

"That's exactly what I do think. " The Count couldn't force him, no, but a field agent would feel perfectly justified in tricking him, ifthe stakes were high enough. "I'm not sure whether it was her primaryplan or a backup, but thinking back, she could very well have lacedthat beer with virus. With you not susceptible and the rest of herguests being Kins already, I'm the only one it would have any effecton. "

King chuckled. "That makes sense, Cap--but if so, it backfired on her. According to the tapes, the ones who get the hungries may becomehigh-class Donors when they're weakened for the Change, but they don'tbecome Kins. "

"Oh, yeah?" Thompson grinned in relief. "I can handle that easilyenough, especially since it means the team doesn't have to break up. Ithink I'll ask to see her as soon as we finish eating. "

 * * * * *

The Count sent word that she'd see him as soon as her morning formalaudience was over, so Thompson was waiting in her working office whenshe came in just before noon. He rose and, since he was in civilianclothes this time, bowed slightly. "Good morning, my Lady. "

"Good morning, Captain. You look pleased with yourself. " The Countmotioned him back to his seat, while she leaned against her desk. "What is it?"

Thompson outlined what he and King had discussed, feeling more relaxedin her presence than he'd have thought possible the previous night. "So if what Sergeant King read is accurate, " he finished, "I can letone of you feed, enjoy it, and still stay with my team. "

"It is accurate enough, " the Count said, her expression unreadable toanyone without a field agent's training. "Perhaps a tenth of those whoare susceptible do not Change into Kins. They do become the bestDonors available, though no Kin will risk feeding even from them morethan once per tenday. " She sighed. "I cannot share your relief, Captain, though I can understand it. I am fully aware of the way mostpeople out-system will react to us, and being from out-system yourself, you would have gotten a far more sympathetic reaction than aNarvonese-born Kin. Your being a Donor will help, even so. Do you haveany preference as to the Kin?"

"One of the really hungry ones, " Thompson said. "Otherwise, notparticularly. "

"Very well. You seemed quite taken with Chief Kaufman yesterday; sheis Night Duty Officer now, so she is sleeping, but will be in heroffice about twenty-two-thirty tonight. Shall I leave word that youare coming?"

"I felt sorry for her, was all, " Thompson said. "The poor kid--Yes, please let her know. "

"All you felt consciously, perhaps, " the Count said drily. "I read itas potentially far more--but that no longer matters. I will rescind myrequest for your indefinite assignment here. "

"Thank you, my Lady. " Thompson rose, and this time his bow waseverything her rank entitled her to. 

 * * * * *

Thompson entered the System Security office complex and approached thedesk sergeant, ready to introduce himself, but she stood. "CaptainThompson?"

"Yes. "

"Chief Kaufman is waiting for you, sir. To your right, third door onthe left. " She smiled. "You made a good choice, Captain. She's thebest I've ever Donated to. "

"How did you know I chose her, rather than the other way around?"

"It's always the Donor's choice, sir. The Kin can ask someone, or passon a volunteer, but one will never feed on an unwilling Donor. " Thedesk sergeant grinned. "Besides, her Ladyship said you had. "

Thompson chuckled. "Thanks, Sergeant. Third on my left, you said. "He went to the door she'd described, still amused. Now that the dangerof becoming one himself was past, he discovered he was beginning tolike these blood-drinkers, and to hope the Count would find a good, sympathetic Liaison Officer. 

He didn't have to knock; the door opened as he neared it, and Kaufmaninvited him in with a flourish. "Nice to see you again, Captain, " shesaid, smiling--and this time Thompson let himself respond to her hungerand her gleaming fangs. He went into her open arms, leaning his headto one side. 

She brushed his throat with her lips, and he felt amusement mixed withher hunger. "May I assume that your Corporal Nkomo won't pull you awayfrom me this time, my dear Captain?" she murmured. 

"You may, my dear Chief. " Thompson relaxed completely, feeling theassurance she projected. "This may be my only chance, so drink as muchas you want. "

"As much as I'd take for a Change, yes. You'll go into a deep sleep, and wake up hungry enough to eat a hellbeast. "

"That's what my socio spec told me. " Thompson's earlier desire wasback in full force, stronger than ever; he licked his lips, wishingshe'd get on with it. 

Warmth on his throat, the sensation of hunger, hard sharpness-- Hecried out at the sudden intense pleasure of fangs in his throat, hisblood filling the Kin's eager mouth, satisfying her driving hunger . . . 

 * * * * *

He woke with that memory, his hand going to his throat and caressingthe wounds there. It was comfortable lying in bed--he knew, somehow, that he was back in the apartment he'd been assigned--and he'd like tostay there, holding on to the memory of Kaufman's feeding, but he wasmuch too hungry. He got up and used the 'fresher, then dressed, intending to go to the dining room. 

It wasn't necessary; a covered serving tray sat on the coffee table inhis apartment's living room, with a note beside it. He uncovered thetray and began eating, curious about the note but not willing tointerrupt until he'd taken the edge off his appetite. Whoever hadprepared the tray, he thought gratefully, had a pretty good idea whatone of the "near-misses" like himself needed; by the time he emptiedit, he was satisfied. 

He picked up the note and leaned back, chuckling as he read it. 

"Dear Jase, "By the time you get to this, you'll have eaten and I'll be asleep. Iwant you to know: you were delicious, and I have never had a bettermeal. I hope I was able to give you as much pleasure as you gave me, and if you are going to be here long enough, I'd appreciate theopportunity to feed from you again. 

"Affectionately, "Enna"

It was odd thinking of himself as a delicious meal, but Thompson foundit tickled him; sure, he'd feed her again if he and his team were herelong enough. In the meantime, until he got orders, he and his teamwere on leave, and as he'd told Audra, they might as well takeadvantage of their stay in a System Palace. 

For the rest of the day, they did just that. Their status as theCount's guests let them enjoy the prerogatives only local nobility orabove usually got, and they took advantage of it in the ways theirvarious interests dictated. For Thompson, that meant a run through theCount's target range, a hearty lunch, a trip through the planetaryzoo--he'd need a week to do justice to the whole thing, but this was agood start--a four-course supper, and an evening at the local classicstheater to see Last Starfighter for perhaps the twentieth time. 

He went to bed feeling comfortably tired, and for several hours sleptwell, if with increasing unease, but about 0200 he woke and couldn'tget back to sleep. His throat itched, and he felt restless, bloated, so irritable he had to get up and move around. For awhile he prowledaround his apartment, but that didn't help for long; eventually, he puton a robe and went out. 

He prowled the Palace corridors, rubbing the fang marks on his throatfrom time to time, his unease and restless irritability growing. Hedidn't like being this way--it was nothing like his usual self--but hecouldn't seem to do fight his way out of it. 

After what felt like decades, he found himself at the System Securityoffice complex. Something inside him seemed to say "That's it, " so hewent inside. 

The desk sergeant--the same one who had been there the day before--lookedat him in surprise. "Is there something I can do for you, Captain?"

"I . . . I don't know. " Thompson rubbed at the fang marks, frustratedthat it didn't seem to help, then began scratching at them. "Is ChiefKaufman here?"

"No, sir, she's patrolling. You can wait here till she gets back, ifyou want to. Uh . . . You shouldn't be doing that. "

"Doing what?" Thompson snapped. 

"Scratching yourself like that. You could . . . Well, hurt yourself. "

"Dammit, they itch!" The reminder made it worse; Thompson's scratchingwent deeper, beginning to draw blood. That helped a little, so he dugin more. 

"Sir, don't!"

Thompson paid no attention, needing that bit of relief, small as itwas, even when the desk sergeant hit the station alarm. Half a decadetroopers seemed to materialize around him, and he heard the sergeantorder him restrained. 

When they grabbed him and tried to force his arms down behind his back, though, he started fighting. IntelDiv had some nasty moves picked upfrom combat techniques developed by a couple of decade cultures; he'ddecked three of his assailants before reinforcements arrived and tookhim down, handcuffing him and confining him to a padded holding cell. 

An indeterminate, almost painfully frustrating amount of time later, hefelt some relief and slumped to the padded floor; a Kin wasapproaching. Whoever it was stopped, perhaps at the desk, then hesensed anxiety, and the Kin started moving again. Not long after, EnnaKaufman was at the door of his cell, opening it and entering. Sheknelt beside him. 

"Jase, what's wrong?"

Her nearness calmed him; Thompson breathed deeply, his tension easing. "I wish to Chaos I knew! I damnsure didn't bargain for anything likethis when I wanted you to feed on me. "

"Neither did I, or I wouldn't have. " She removed the handcuffs, thenstroked the wounds on his throat; he relaxed. "I can feel what youwant, Jase, but I can't do anything about it; I fed off you last night, so you have another nine days before any Kin will touch you again. "

"I . . . Don't think I'll last another nine hours, much less nine days. Chaos, Enna, what do I have to do?"

"I don't know. Prince knows, I'd help you if I could!"

 * * * * *

The Count was having a night as restless as Thompson's. Finally, notlong after he'd been put in the holding cell, she got out of bed--carefully, so she wouldn't disturb the Donor she'd mated with--and wentinto her living area to call Security. "Is anything wrong?" shedemanded as soon as the desk sergeant appeared on her screen. 

"Not really, my Lady, " the desk sergeant replied. "Captain Thompsoncame in a few minutes ago looking for Chief Kaufman, but she's out onpatrol, so I told him he could wait. But he was scratching his throat, drawing blood, and he wouldn't stop--I had to order him restrained. He's handcuffed and in the holding cell till she gets back. He'strying to climb the walls, but at least he can't hurt himself. "

The Count frowned. That was a peculiar reaction to an attemptedChange, even to one she and Kaufman had known would be unsuccessful--but it did explain the feeling of strain she sensed. Perhaps theattempt had had some effect after all; though it certainly hadn't madehim into a Kin, he was reacting as strongly as if it had. "Call mewhen Chief Kaufman arrives. I want to see for myself exactly what ishappening. "

"Yes, my Lady. "

The Count switched off and dressed, thinking. It had never seemedreasonable to her that ten percent of susceptibles didn't react exceptto become Donors of a class that was unusual, but didn't require mostto be susceptible or go through Change. There had never been evidenceof more than a difference in degree, however--or not until now, perhaps. Thompson's reaction might indicate a difference in kind, aChange to . . . What? Something that would complement the Kin Change?

It was half an hour before the desk sergeant called to report thatKaufman had come in, but when she did, the Count lost no time gettingto Security and the holding cell. She arrived as Kaufman was using adamp cloth to gently wipe blood from scratches on Thompson's neck. 

She felt immediate sympathy for the Marine; reading him told her thathe was in pain, as well as under the terrible strain she'd felt in himearlier. She had sensed that strain before, she realized now, thoughfar less intensely: in some of the others who hadn't--or apparentlyhadn't--Changed, near the end of the ten days that separated theirallowable Donations. That irritability and anxiety had been attributedto a natural desire to Donate as often as they could, but now the Countwas beginning to think it might be a physiological need as real as aKin's need for blood. Thompson certainly hadn't had time to missDonating to that degree, not with Kaufman having taken him the daybefore. "Captain, " she said gently. 

The face that turned to her held desperation and sudden hope. "Y . . . Yes, my Lady?"

"Did you dream tonight?"

"Huh?" Thompson was startled at the question, but he nodded. "Yes--adragon wearing a crown. An Oriental dragon. He . . . Approves of me. "

"The Dragon Prince, " Kaufman said softly. "The one who used the virusto make us what we are. He always appears to a new Kin. "

"But never, to the best of anyone's knowledge, to anyone else. " TheCount swore briefly, though only to herself. They had never thought toask the supposedly-unChanged ones about their dreams, and they--or atleast she!--should have. It was stupid to think Change had to bringabout a visible change; she could only excuse herself by pleading thepress of other problems that had claimed her attention since Kins beganappearing. "Your desire to feed Kins is more than simple desire now, Captain; I can tell that. It is a physical requirement. " She turned toher Chief of Detectives. "He needs you. "

"But it's only been a day, " Kaufman said. 

The detective chief's heart wasn't in her objection; the Count nodded. "The law will have to be changed to accommodate Captain Thompson andthe other . . . " What was a good word for them? They weren't Kins, though they were of the--the Kindred, yes. 

Thompson chuckled harshly. "Call me a Bloodmate, my Lady. I giveblood, and I damnsure feel like Enna's mate. "

The Count nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Appropriate; very well. Carefor your Bloodmate, Enna. "

Kaufman didn't have to be told twice; she took Thompson into her armsand nuzzled his throat, breaking the skin to sip but not piercing hiscarotid. Thompson relaxed, his irritable frustration easing, and hefelt his consort's satisfaction at that. There was far more to hisneed than her gentle sipping; he was responding to her physically aswell, knew she felt it, and luxuriated in her answering caress. Therewas no such thing, he realized dreamily, as a casual liaison betweenKin and Bloodmate; he was free to accept her love-making, as well asher feeding. 

"But not in a detention cell, " Kaufman murmured against her Bloodmate'sthroat. He might be too far gone to care, but she had no intention oftaking him on the floor, no matter how well padded it might be. Shepicked him up, sensing the Count's approval, and carried him to theduty officer's apartment. 

Thompson was content to wait; for now, the promise of her delicatefangs, the strength of the body he would nourish, were enough. Shewould make love to him, and when he peaked, she would sate her fiercehunger in their shared ecstasy. She would care for him, yes . . . 

The Count watched them leave, pleased. She had hoped for an ex-E-Teamleader turned Kin as Liaison Officer, though she would have settled forwhatever benefit a team-full of Donors might bring; now she hadsomething beyond her most optimistic hopes. She would give Kaufman andThompson time for--she grinned to herself--a honeymoon. While theywere indulging in each other, she would name the Kindred--Kins andBloodmates alike--as the System's local nobility. And then she woulddesignate the pair of them as Liaison. Thompson had lost his team, yes, but he had gained at least as much in the way of companionship andmore in physical satisfaction; he would be fine. And what a team thosetwo would make!

END