Kinsmen 01 - Silver Shark

diagrid envelope, the light streaming through the solar panels now the deep honey of late afternoon. Three plush crescent-shaped couches formed a ring in the middle of the room with a cream-colored coffee table made of reflective plasti-glass in the center. Further, a crescent desk of the same material curved from the wall, on which a large screen hung, streaming some sort of data. A tall blond man stood with his back to her. He turned at their approach and Claire almost stumbled.
    He had a strong, masculine face, with a square clean-shaven jaw. On Uley, blond people had a washed out, sickly look, their skin too white, their hair verging on transparent. His skin was flawless bronze, his hair a pale, almost white gold. His broad shoulders strained the fabric of his tailored light-grey summer doublet, the outline of muscle on his chest and arms plainly visible under the thin fabric. Everything about him, from the way he turned, graceful and perfectly balanced, to the way he held himself now, communicated health, strength, and power. He was sun-kissed, golden, overwhelming.
    His dark green eyes focused on her, reflecting a sharp, perceptive intellect. The eyes of a man who could be either very generous or completely ruthless. The man smiled, at once charming and reassuring, and she felt the power of his mind. It was like a typhoon held back, enclosed in a self-imposed cage.
    It was too much. Every coping mechanism that let her make it this far collapsed. She stared with no idea how to respond.
    He was larger than life.
    Lienne cleared her throat.
    The sound shattered her trance. Claire closed her mouth.
    "You're Claire," the man said, his voice resonant, communicating strength as much as his body did.
    "Yes?" she answered, reeling from the shock.
    "My name is Venturo Escana," he said.
    The Escana kinsman family, a distant part of her mind informed her. They owned Guardian, Inc., and Venturo Escana led the family. She was facing the god of this beautiful building.
    "This is my aunt Lienne Escana; she is my second in command. Please sit down," he invited her to the couch.
    She sat on autopilot, smoothing her skirt over her legs. She felt so out of place here, in this office. Venturo sat across from her. Lienne sat on the same couch as he, leaving several feet between them.
    "You're a refugee," he said.
    She couldn't sit there, mute, and simply stare. Claire forced herself to formulate words. "Yes."
    "As I understand, our planet made an arrangement with your home world. We agreed to accept a certain number of refugees in return for the use of Uley's interstellar bases as refuel points. I understand your home world made these arrangements with a number of other planets."
    "That's correct," she said. He was keeping his mind firmly away from hers. It was an exquisitely polite gesture. She had expected him to batter her the moment she entered the room.
    "It must've been very difficult to leave your world."
    He had no idea. "I've been very fortunate to arrive here."
    "Do you like it here?" he asked with genuine interest.
    "It's very beautiful," she said. "Very bright." Too bright. Too vivid. Too many smiles. Men that were... that were...
    "We try to live life to its fullest," he said.
    He didn't intend anything sexual by it, but inside her shields, his words triggered an image of him naked. It flashed before her, stunning in its shamelessness. She wanted to touch him.
    I'm losing my mind.
    "I suppose we have to begin the interview now," he said, almost apologetic. "It's important that you answer with complete honesty. Lienne and I are monitoring your thoughts. We will be able to detect a lie."
    His mind touched hers, very gently. She held absolutely still, terrified that any of her runaway emotions would break out of her shields.
    "Don't be nervous," he told her. "It will be fine, I promise."
    She concentrated on the table in front of her, crushing her sexual impulses and painting calm over her emotions.
    "What did you do on your home world?" he asked.
    "I was a secretary at a munitions factory," she lied. "We manufactured parts for the long range coastal guns." It was her cover. When asked what she did outside of the Psych Corps, she was supposed to respond with this line.
    "What made you decide to apply to become retainer of the Escana family?" he asked.
    "It was recommended to me by the Immigration Service," she said, relieved to be honest. "As a condition of my deportation, I'm required to follow the employment