Chapter 6 

The Qatar was on its way back to Capella. The ship had a couple of planetary officials on board who needed urgent transport, and a hold full of paper that the men intended to trade or sell on Capella. Paper was light and seeing that the hold would have been mostly empty on this trip, the Captain had allowed each crewman to personally buy up to a kilo of the precious material. It was a reward for enduring the rather boring run to Tian which had very limited recreational facilities for transient men. Despite the taxes they would have to pay, the men still expected to do very well out of the arrangement. 

One of the official passengers was Captain Robin Lang, Chief of the Huan police force. He was going to Capella to attend a system wide conference on modern law enforcement. Naturally most communication was done remotely through the console units but once every two years Colonel Young organised a live conference. There were always some communications which simply worked better face to face, often during the socialisation which occurred outside the formal sessions. 

Lang called in to see Alan Stewart in his quarters as soon as he had settled in. The Lieutenant found his body had tensed up the minute he saw Lang's ID flash outside his door. He rolled his shoulders and made a conscious effort to relax, before opening the door. "Robin! How are you? Come in."  

Lang looked just as awkward, trying too hard to act as if they were still best friends. "Fine, I'm fine. You're looking well." He sat down as Stewart poured them both a glass of Burran ale. 

"Max settling in OK then?" asked Lang, a little too casually as he sipped his beer. 

"Yes, he is. I think he's made some friends with the other young lads who came on board at the same time, but he'll tell you more about that than I can, I'm sure." Stewart smiled lightly and changed the subject. "So what's the main subject for discussion at this year's conference? Are you running one of the sessions?"  

The awkwardness between the two men gradually faded as they talked about work until it seemed to Alan they were almost back on their old footing. 

Eventually, Lang got reluctantly to his feet. "I must be off. I've got that report to finalise before we dock." He shook Stewart's hand and smiled more naturally. "It's been good to see you Alan." He hesitated for a moment then gave him a clumsy hug, slapping him on the back a couple of times. 

"You too, Robin. I'll see you at dinner, the Captain's arranged a more formal meal for us all tonight." Stewart returned the thumps on the back. Maybe it was possible to get their friendship back. 

The next day, Lieutenant Stewart sat patiently in the shuttle, along with six other men. He was looking forward to the couple of days leave he would have in Capella. He felt he really needed to call in at the All Stars or some other om friendly bar. Perhaps this time he could try the Sahara Club, he'd heard they had private rooms so that oms didn't need to walk through the streets together looking for a hotel, they could simply disappear into the back for an hour. It was supposed to be more discreet, some patrons even wore masks. He wasn't certain whether he'd like the place or not but he supposed he should go and see for himself. He had stayed as far away from Banner as he could in the confines of a small ship, but he still found himself conscious of his presence whenever they were in the same room. He could only hope he didn't look as frustrated as he felt. 

Banner sat at the other end of the shuttle, feeling miserable. He knew he should have expected Alan Stewart's withdrawal, he had all but demanded he stay away from him, but he missed his company. He missed talking to someone who was interested in his dragon research, missed chatting to him at mealtimes, missed his smile. He had got by quite happily for two years without sex but now those long dormant instincts were coming to life, awakening appetites he'd thought suppressed forever. He really wanted to talk to Alan, explain things to him. He wondered if he could find an opportunity while they were on Capella. 

They were both staying at the Blue Nova, the hotel of choice for most Patrol Officers. Banner sat down in the lounge area near Reception with his com unit, pretending to work, waiting. 

An hour later he spotted Stewart, dressed up in black cargo pants and a purple shirt, evidently on his way out for a night on the town. He came quietly up behind him as he left the building, "Alan?" 

Stewart froze in his tracks. "Yes?" he asked neutrally. 

"Would you meet me somewhere private so we can talk? I mean somewhere really private, where no one knows us." 

The Lieutenant felt his heart thumping in surprised disbelief. What was Banner asking here? He turned to look at him, a giant question mark on his face. Banner hastily clarified, "Just to talk, not anything else." 

Stewart started walking again, getting himself back under control, "I was going to have a look at the Sahara Club. Do you know it?" 

"I've never been there, but I've heard of it." 

"I'll be there for the next hour, if you want to come and find me." He strode off without waiting for an answer, he didn't know if Banner was playing games with him or not. Whatever he wanted to 'talk' about wouldn't change their situation. He was still out of bounds, untouchable. 

Neither of them noticed Max standing in the shadows behind them. Max wasn't quite sure what he was doing, following Alan and Banner around like some crazy stalker, but he overheard their destination and immediately decided to check it out himself. He had heard a bit about the Sahara from his last boyfriend who had tried to warn him off. "Everyone wears masks, you can have sex with a total stranger in the dark and never know who it was! Freaky!" 

Max disagreed, he thought it sounded exciting. He continued to follow Alan. 

There was no bright flashing sign advertising the Sahara, just a circle of symbols etched on the door. If you didn't already know where it was, it was unlikely a stranger would find it. Stewart went in cautiously. A doorman stationed in the passage looked him over carefully and indicated he could proceed with a brief nod. The Lieutenant wondered what he was looking for, oms hardly came with it tattooed on their foreheads. Perhaps he was simply checking to make sure he matched the dress code. He continued down the dimly lit passage to an even more dimly lit room beyond. It looked like the inside of a giant tent. The bar was in the middle, circling a giant tent pole. Swaths of coloured material hung down from the pole to the walls, continuing the tent image. The floor was dotted with wicker tables and chairs at discreet distances from each other and small booths were set around the rim. He noticed many of them had curtains drawn. 

He wasn't convinced. Although recognition would certainly be difficult he could imagine the staff would know most of what was going on and who was doing it. Presumably many of the men patronising the club wanted to keep their sexuality secret and the whole place seemed unfortunately like a ready-made opportunity for blackmail, if a staff member or even regular patron, felt so inclined. He ordered a Burran ale and sat down at one of the small tables. He took a sip of ale and grabbed a handful of spiced nuts from the bowl in the middle, casting his eyes around the room as unobtrusively as possible. He was one of the few with a bare face, he saw lots of lightweight scarves or shawls carefully draped, a few costume masks, even a couple of plasfoam masks which looked rather sinister in the dim light. He wondered if Banner would come. 

Max stood just inside the door, looking around the room with eager curiosity. Most of the men were masked, as his friend had told him. His young face and blond hair, bare for all to see, attracted a lot of interest. Almost immediately a very tall man wearing a black scarf made his way across the room towards him and Max felt a jolt of nervous excitement. Surely that must be Alan, was he going to proposition him or tell him to leave? He didn't seriously think that Alan was going to make a pass at him, not after their last conversation, so he was bracing himself to defend his right to be there when the man spoke to him. 

"Hullo there, aren't you a handsome boy then," the husky drawl was nowhere near like Alan's crisp speech. "Can I buy you a drink? Or two?" 

"Why not?" flirted Max, feeling adventurous. He obviously had a real thing for tall men, he thought to himself. 

"I have a private room," the man tossed casually over his shoulder as he led the way to a discreetly placed door. "We can have a few drinks and get to know each other. Then, who knows what might happen?" 

Max hesitated for a second at the thought of a private room. The man turned back and stroked a finger down the side of Max's face then trailed it lightly across his lips. "Don't be scared. I don't bite! Much," he laughed. 

Max flushed, "I'm not scared." He followed the stranger out through the door. He could always leave if he changed his mind. A masked man seated in a nearby booth watched them closely through half drawn curtains as they passed. Neither of them heard the sudden hiss of breath as he caught a glimpse of Max's face. 

Lieutenant Stewart had politely turned down advances from several strangers before he saw a man all in black coming towards him. Black trousers, black shirt, black scarf over his head and face, just his eyes showing. He seated himself opposite Stewart. "They were handing these out at the door so I got two in case you want one." Banner's voice came through the cotton scarf. His eyes seemed to glitter through the slight gap. He handed a strip of black material over to the Lieutenant and continued conversationally, "Men used to wear these in the desert you know, centuries ago back on Earth, to protect themselves from the sand and wind." 

He saw that Stewart was looking rather blankly at the scarf in his hands and got up behind him to drape it deftly round his head and shoulders. Alan swallowed at the light touch of Michael's fingers on his face, allowing him to pull one end across below his eyes and fasten it neatly with a small pin in the shape of a pyramid. "I must look like an idiot!" he growled uncomfortably. 

"No, actually you look hot," Michael reassured him unthinkingly. There was an awkward pause. "Uh, before we go any further, I need to ask you a hypothetical question." 

"Yes?" Alan told himself he had to wait for what Michael was going to say, not leap ahead in wild speculation. Just as well because it wasn't remotely what he was expecting.