“I don’t think you’ll be required to dance, J-8, I mean, James,” Commander Sylvan said to him. “You’re just going to be formally introduced to the Princess so you can guard her. You’ll attend the ball as her bodyguard, not her escort.”
“Very well.” James nodded. “Then I will go at once.”
After he made a small side trip to visit the resident Tolleg surgeon, Yipper, he told himself. It wouldn’t be a good idea to start such an important mission without having his emotion damper checked.
Not a good idea at all.
2
“I’m sorry, but Yipper is in the middle of a very important surgery,” he was told, when he went to visit the little Tolleg. “He’s not expected to be finished for hours. Would you like to come back later?”
“That will not be possible.” James shook his head. He had to get to the Docking Bay as soon as he could. Already Commander Sylvan was probably wondering why he wasn’t there yet. He had promised to have the Mother Ship fold space for James at once, and it took an immense amount of power to keep a fold in space open for any length of time.
I’ll just have to go without a checkup. I’m fine, anyway, he told himself, as he thanked Yipper’s assistant and turned away. After all, he’d been living without emotions all his life and these small changes he’d been detecting lately were probably no more than tiny glitches in the software of his emotion damper.
Tiny glitches? Is that why you had the urge to visit the Pleasure House and try out a Pairing Puppet? whispered a little voice in his head. Or what about the way you’ve been taking an interest in what you eat lately? Protein paste isn’t good enough for you anymore—you’ve been going out almost every other night to try new restaurants and different cuisines.
But that was just curiosity, James argued with himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had noticed, quite suddenly, recently, that the complete nutrition protein paste he had been eating for years was unbearably dull.
Well, what about the way you’ve been listening to—and enjoying—music? the voice demanded. You notice the background music in everyplace you eat at. And what about the concert you attended in the Common Area at the center of the ship last week?
More curiosity, James told himself. Curiosity could save a warrior’s life. One had to be ever vigilant to the details all around—there was nothing wrong with wanting to know more about one’s immediate surroundings.
Besides, his perfect pitch allowed him to critique the music he heard, which was an excellent analytical exercise for his brain and kept his mind sharp. Hadn’t he heard it said that music and mathematics were related? And math had never been forbidden on Zeaga Four—it was certainly not capable of causing strong emotions.
I’ll be fine, he told himself firmly, as he turned and headed towards the Docking Bay at a brisk pace. There’s nothing wrong with my emotion damper. And even if there was, I have no interest in anything other than doing my job.
He would acquit himself, as he always did, with passionless resolve and he would do an excellent job fulfilling the special mission Commander Sylvan had entrusted to him.
There would be absolutely no problems, James promised himself. No problems whatsoever at all.
3
“So you’re to meet your new bodyguard tonight, Your Highness. You must be so excited—I hear he’s a robot or some such thing.”
Lady Mildew’s voice had a stiff, disapproving tone but then, her old chaperone’s voice always sounded like that when she spoke about anything new.
She’s just jealous that I won’t need her anymore—that she won’t be constantly at my side, poking and prying into every little bit of my business all the time! Rissa thought. Aloud, she said,
“It is not so unusual, Lady Mildew. Many of the first families have adopted the practice of buying robots to serve them. Why should we, at the royal palace, not do the same?”
“Because it’s unnatural, that’s why!” Lady Mildew snapped. “There—get out and let me dry you off—it’s time to get you dressed for the presentation before tonight’s ball.”
Rissa sighed and stepped out of the wide, oval tub, which was filled with icy water. Anyone else would have shivered at the thought of soaking for hours in such frigid conditions, but lately, as she had entered her first Heat Cycle, it was the only kind of bath Rissa could take. In fact, it was not only necessary but a blessed relief, she thought, as she allowed the older woman to briskly towel the droplets of icy water off her body.
Not that she needed much toweling—the droplets were already evaporating from her creamy, light brown skin, which was as warm to the touch as though she had a fever. Worse, her nipples—or ‘points’ as they were more politely called—had gone from their normal dark berry color to a glowing pink.