The Danger Dance (Merculians, #1) by Caro Soles

Description:

Life and death action and intrigue aboard a military space vessel!

A startling command from the dreaded Praetan brings chaos into the tranquil lives of hermaphrodites Eulio and his lover Orosin. Using the tour of the Merculian National Dance Company where Eulio is a star as cover, they board the Wellington, a militaristic starship that values nothing they believe in. Someone is passing secrets about fleet movements and weaponry to the enemies in the Troia, but the efforts of the two Merculians to unmask the spy only stir up a toxic mix of hatred and violence. Who will have to die before the Praetan is satisfied? The Danger Dance is a futuristic space adventure with enough swashbuckling action and intrigue to keep even the most jaded science fiction addict enthralled.

Excerpt:

Triani was among the first to take the shuttle planet side to Station X3116. The security checks took less time than he had expected and soon he was in the heart of the colony. He looked around at the towering jumble of shops and hotels, apartments, manufacturing units, the huge pod of the theater where he would be dancing later on. The place seemed to have no design at all. Air cars swooped crazily between colored railings. Bubble lifts drifted up and down, finding their way amidst the humming traffic. People crowded the moving sidewalks and hung off balconies; all kinds of races, cultures, species. The Station was a free port and as such drew all manner of people from every kind of background, everyone bent on making just a little more than the next guy, and everyone intent on avoiding the rapacious pirates who circled lazily above the clouds. It was said that getting on the station was a lot easier than getting off.

Triani flagged down an air car and gave the address of the shoemaker Lucius had told him about last month. The expatriate Merculian craftsman had come here many years ago and Lucius said he had a magic touch.

“It’s an honor to do business with you!” exclaimed the shoemaker when Triani arrived. “I have tickets for every performance! I’ve looked forward to meeting you for a long time! Sit down and try on the shoes.” He hovered over the dancer, easing his foot out of the walking boot and into the hand-sewn slipper. It clung to his foot like a second skin, following his every movement without a wrinkle.

“You are a true artist!” exclaimed Triani.

The old Merculian’s pale eyes filled with tears at this praise.

Triani kissed his cheek.

He had ordered only twenty pairs at first, just to test the quality. Before he left, he placed another order for twice that number to be picked up on the way back.

Triani was delighted as he climbed out of the cab at the theater. “Wait for me, will you? I’ll just get these boxes inside. It’ll take a few minutes.”

“Take your time. The meter’s running.” The driver, a young Elutian, thrust his narrow scaly body out the window and poured bright green coolant over himself. “Ahhhh,” he breathed with satisfaction.

Triani hurried through the stage door. Arriad was pushing a rack of costumes along the brightly lit hall. “Just the person I want!” Triani shouted. “Come here, sweetie. I need you to do me a favor.”

Arriad looked up and down the hall. No one was in sight. He pushed the costumes into an alcove and followed the dancer.

Triani piled the boxes on the floor of his dressing room and opened the first few. “Look at that color! Look how it changes and picks up what it’s close to! I want to wear these tonight. It doesn’t take long to sew in the elastic but I promised Zanda I’d drop off some message cubes for her at the Terran Embassy and then I’ve got a date. Will you do it for me?”

Arriad nodded. “Show me how you want it, chai.”

Triani tried on the slipper and pinned the elastic to the side. “Do several pairs, just in case. Okay?”

“Yes, chai.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll.” With a wave, he was gone. “Take me to the Terran Embassy and then the Alpha Zed Hotel,” he said, climbing into the air car. The Elutian driver retracted himself and they swooped into the fray of traffic. Triani lay back and thought about Lucius, the man who gave him red roses, who said he would be waiting on X3116. When they got to the Terran Embassy, he sent the driver in with the message cubes.

“The faster we get there, the bigger your tip,” he said, when the Elutian slid behind the controls again. He was beginning to worry that Lucius might not have received his message. They took off so abruptly, Triani grasped the encircling upholstery for support.

Lucius had been a figure of mystery right from the beginning. The Terran male never talked about himself and had an apparently inexhaustible supply of credits. There were all kinds of stories about him, hints of underworld connections and unsavory business dealings, but this only added a splash of danger to the man that made him doubly intriguing. Triani had met him about four months ago at the Festival on Vesta 6. Lucius’ dark good looks and strong personality drew Triani like a magnet. The man had sent red roses before the performance, had come backstage afterward and proved himself surprisingly knowledgeable about dancing. Triani cancelled another engagement to go out for a drink with him. They ended up at Lucius’ hotel and it was an episode unique in Triani’s extensive experience. Lucius had opened a door into a new and dark world, and shown him a tantalizing glimpse of the almost unbearable pleasure to be found on the other side of pain.

The bubble lift at the Alpha Zed whisked Triani up the main air shaft and set him down gently at Lucius’ door. It was open, as if he was expected.

Lucius sat at a low table sifting through a pile of message cubes that littered one end of the table. A metal briefcase was open beside him.

“Doing your homework, sweetie?” Triani lounged in the doorway, one shoulder against the wall.

Lucius raised his dark head. “You look better than ever.”

“Likewise.”

Lucius got up and poured some red wine. He wore a leather vest, a black belt with a large silver buckle, and tight black leather pants with zippers up each leg. On one wrist was a wide leather bracelet with a double row of silver studs. He handed Triani a glass. “To art, and the artist.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

They watched each other as they drained their glasses. Suddenly Lucius threw his head back and laughed.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said. “How long has it been?”