EXCERPT FROM "The Company Man"

“I hope everything was satisfactory, Mr. Kashari,” the desk clerk said as she took Jarvez’s credit details for the final hotel bill.

“Oh yes,” Jarvez said. “In fact I can safely say I’ve never been as satisfied in a hotel in my life.”

Beside him Alyn made a choking sound and trod heavily on his foot. The desk clerk just stifled a giggle and handed him the bill terminal to sign off. When Alyn tried to take a look at it, Jarvez kept it out of sight, endorsed it, and handed it back to her.

“Your taxi is outside,” she said. “I hope we’ll see you here again, sirs. Safe trip.”

“Thank you.” Alyn hustled Jarvez away from the desk, blushing amusingly. “I suppose you think that was funny,” he said when they were out of earshot of the desk.

“Very.”

“What was the damage in the end?”

“The damage?” Jarvez asked, baffled. They hadn’t actually broken the bed, had they?

“The bill,” Alyn said. “What did it come to?”

“Never you mind.”

“I was just asking.”

“I told you,” Jarvez said. “It was my treat. And I won’t tell you the amount, because you only want to hear it so you can complain about it.”

“Why should I complain about it?” Alyn asked. “I’m not the one paying it.”

They reached the exit and found the taxi waiting for them. When they got into it, it lifted into the air and shot off, leaving the ground cars well behind.

“All right,” Jarvez said. “You can’t see it because you’re too British.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Only that in my experiences a British person will sleep on a concrete slab to save the cost of a hotel room.”

“Hey now!” Alyn protested. “I resent that remark.”

The taxi dropped them off at the terminal, and Alyn strode toward Customs.

“Don’t we need tickets?” Jarvez asked, hurrying to catch up with him after tipping the driver.

“No. I’m flying us back in the Kingfisher.”

“It’s still here? I assumed the pilots took it back days ago.”

“Oh no.” Alyn had a rather smug look on his face. “It’s been having a little work done.”

A little was more British understatement. When they reached the yacht, Jarvez could only stare at the transformation. The paintwork had been redone already, but now a final coat of glossy metallic paint had been applied. The ship’s name stood out blacker and more striking than ever. And beside the name was a small painting in jewellike colors of a diving kingfisher, its beak only centimeters from the R in the name, as if about to break the surface.

Alyn bent down beside Jarvez to inspect the picture, smiling. “I paid a local artist to come and do it. Good, isn’t it?”

“What is it with you and kingfishers?” Jarvez asked. “I thought you Welshmen were more for dragons.”

Alyn laughed. “I used to go out looking for dragons, see. In the hills, when I was a boy. Never did find any. But I did find a pool with a pair of kingfishers nesting beside it. Dragons are just fantasies. But those kingfishers, they were there year after year.”

“Are they still there?” Jarvez asked.

“Oh yes. Or their descendants, I suppose.”

“I’d like to see them one day.”

Alyn looked up at him sharply. He knew Jarvez was talking about more than a spot of bird surveillance.

“I’ll take you there, when we get home,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want.” He bent closer and kissed Alyn quickly before they both straightened up, hearing footsteps coming toward them. Alyn was smiling. He had his answer. He didn’t say anything else, just went off to deal with the port official who’d come over to settle the final bill for the hangar space.

Jarvez let him take care of that and boarded the yacht. He was almost as impressed as he had been with the exterior. The first things that caught his eye were the chairs, which had been re-covered in leather the exact shade of company dark green. He noticed the details after that. Every broken panel or handle repaired. Every mark on the walls gone. Everything gleamed. The carpet might well be new, or it had just been cleaned enough to reveal its color. The Kingfisher had been valeted to within an inch of its life. It even smelled good. Jarvez hung his coat in a locker and sat in the copilot’s seat. The seats had been repadded too, which was a good thing after the last few days. He sighed with pleasure and stretched his legs out.

So tired and aching with overused muscles, and so unbelievably happy about it. Whatever happened later, right now he was happy. He had a lover. He’d thought he didn’t want a lover. Thought a lover was a burden. Not something a man who traveled light needed. He should be cursing himself and holding Alyn at arm’s length, discouraging him from expecting too much from Jarvez. He should not be feeling as happy and as beneficent as a philanthropist in an orphanage with a bag full of money and sweets.

Alyn came aboard in a few minutes and smiled at him. Jarvez straightened up. “Sorry, I should have started the preflight routines.”

“No problem. We’ve got lots of time. Come on.” He took his seat and touched a button to activate the pilot’s panel. “Let’s go home.” They went through the preflight routine together; then, with the traffic controller’s go-ahead, Alyn launched the ship. It rose smoothly into the air and through the slide-open hangar roof. The city dropped away beneath them as they climbed. For a moment they paused in the air before Alyn kicked in the engine and the ship peeled up into the darkness. They flew toward the “gate,” a gigantic air lock, large enough for ships many times bigger than the Kingfisher. It would let them out of the dome and into the open sky, up to their mothership.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jarvez said as they joined the other ships waiting to enter the gate. “We should take it easy for a couple of days. Not see each other, I mean. Not for sex, that is. We’ve got work to catch up on.”

“And sleep.”

“Definitely. Also, I’m going to be walking funny for a week, so a short rest could be in order.”

“I know what you mean. I’m a little raw myself.”

Jarvez grinned. “That was one hell of a shore leave.”