Fugitive by Cheryl Brooks Page B

enjoying dinner in the nude, and later on had watched her through the window while she'd been engaged in her sexual fantasy—those glowing cat eyes had to belong to a guy who could purr! It was safe to say that though she didn't have many secrets from him, he seemed to be hiding something. "Maybe not," she conceded, "but why is he so secretive? What is he—an escaped felon?"
       "Felon?" Zef echoed. "Is that a bad thing?"
       "Yes," she replied. "A violent criminal."
       "No," he said firmly. "He's not… bad."
       Drusilla laughed. Here she was, treading water in the middle of a lake beneath a purple sky, talking to an amphibious creature who was trying to fix her up with his buddy. "It could only happen in the Milky Way," she sighed.
       Zef didn't respond to that, and during the lull in the conversation, Drusilla gazed across the water to the patch of jungle where she'd last seen her secret admirer. "What's his name?" she asked.
       Zef began to reply, but stopped himself. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Lester," he said.
       "Lester? Why not?"
       "Dunno," Zef admitted. "But my friend always
    disappears when anyone else comes around—like he doesn't want to be found."
       "Well, he's very good at it," Drusilla commented. "He's almost like a ghost—except for the footprints." She paused as something else came to mind. "Tell me, does he play the flute?"
       Ignoring her question, Zef persisted, "Do you promise?"
       "Yeah, sure," Drusilla said in an offhand manner. "Lester probably wouldn't care anyway."
       "Well, don't tell him," Zef advised. "Manx might stop talking to me otherwise."
       Drusilla chuckled. "So, his name is Manx, then?"
       "Shouldn't have said that," Zef said morosely and then growled: "You're making me careless!"
       Just then a shout from further up the shore put an end to their conversation. Lester was standing on the dock waving at her.
       "Rrrggghh!" Zef said with a shudder. "Wouldn't you know it? It's that damn Lester again!"
       Drusilla couldn't help but laugh, thinking it odd that Zef should have such an aversion to the Baradan. Granted, Lester wasn't what Drusilla considered to be attractive, but then, neither was Zef.
       "Hey, Lester!" Drusilla called back. "What's up?"
       "I must speak with you!" Lester shouted. "It is urgent!"
       "Better go see what he wants," Zef advised. "Other wise, he'll swim out here. Rrrgghhh! Can't stand that!"
       "Okay, okay," she said to Zef. The absolute last thing Drusilla wanted to do was to stop what she was doing and go talk to Lester, but it seemed there was no alternative. Raising her voice, she yelled out, "I'm coming!" and swam back to the boat.
       Upon her arrival at the dock, Drusilla could see that Lester was in a serious state of agitation; his hands were moving so fast they almost seemed to vanish.
       "There is danger!" he said dramatically. "I have come to warn you!"
       "Yeah, what about?" Drusilla asked, unperturbed.
       "There is a vicious creature loose in the jungle! A large wildcat with deadly fangs and claws!"
       Drusilla hadn't seen him closely enough to know anything about fangs and claws, but the purring seemed feline, so, while she was fairly certain that Lester was referring to Manx, she was just as certain that he wasn't the least bit dangerous. There had been any number of times thus far that he could have attacked her, but he had always kept his distance. "Is that right?" she said, doing her best to seem properly concerned. "Do you think I should pack up and leave?"
       "Oh, no," Lester said quickly. "But you must beware! And I have b-brought you a-a weapon." As he said this last bit, his normally musical voice dropped to a hoarse, stammering whisper.
       Since Lester was holding what appeared to be a serviceable pulse pistol, Drusilla gazed at him in surprise. "I thought there were no weapons on this planet," she said finally.