In Another Time or Place

by
 Linda Delaney

 

 

Lee Crane swore aloud. This wasn’t the first time that a mission had gone awry, but why was it that every time something did manage to go amiss, he was in the middle of it! Chip and Nelson both swore that he attracted Trouble! He didn’t think that they were correct, but what did he know. The night was velvety black, and the area was quiet, almost too quiet. He wasn’t thrilled to be in the desert, at night, or anticipating daylight, but here he was and he had to make the best of it! He searched desperately for a place to hide on the high flat Mesa. There were several outcroppings of rock, but no other cover. He knew that if he didn’t find shelter soon, his waning strength would falter. He had no choice but to go on…

Perhaps the rock formation ahead would hold some promise…

 

 

It took him nearly an hour to reach the spot that he thought was much closer. By the time he reached it, he was spent. The two wounds in his left arm and thigh were throbbing painfully, he was dizzy and lightheaded, and every muscle in his body screamed in protest.

The rock formation looked to be a good hiding place. Enough room to shelter him from heat and cold., not to mention his pursuers. He could lie down under the rock formation and be able to rest, keep out of the sun, and out of sight. It would give him time to rest, before he resumed his flight from this latest mission.

He sighed. At least the most important part of the mission had been successful. The microchip had been turned over to the underground, and was safely on its way to the computer that needed it to help the rebels against the recently installed dictatorship. If his contact had not tripped him up, after the chip was passed, he would be on the Seaview by now!

He sighed again, and with a great deal of effort searched in his campaign belt for the packets of antibiotic and compression bandages. The wounds burned hot, and cutting off the sleeve of his black turtleneck, and cutting open the leg of his pants, he covered them with the powder and then, awkwardly bandaged them.. Taking a mouthful of water from his half empty canteen, he pillowed his head on his uninjured arm, and fell into a fitful sleep.

 

 

"…And according to the local authorities, the terrorist escaped, along with several members of the rebel cell. However, it is believed that one or more of the rebels, and perhaps the terrorist himself, was wounded in the raid. The government assures all of her people that these rebels and traitors will be captured and properly punished."

A hand reached for the dial on the TV, and angrily turned it off.

"Damn!" hissed Harriman Nelson, as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked over at Chip Morton, who was sitting, tensely, in a chair next to the desk in the Admiral’s quarters. "Damn!"

"Do you think that Lee…?"

He quirked an eyebrow at the XO. " Chip, I’d put money on it. We’ll have to get him out of there, before the other side gets to him!"

"Aye, sir! Chip picked up the mike, "Chief Sharkey, report to the Admiral’s cabin, on the double!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" was the brisk reply.

"You have a plan, sir?"

" I’m working on it! I want you to bring the boat to 6 miles out from Lee’s scheduled rendezvous. Take her down to the bottom and hold her there." A sharp knock on the door, and the door opened.

"Sir?" the COB stood in the doorway.

"Yes, Sharkey, I want you to ready the FS1 for takeoff, in say an hour from now."

"Aye, sir." He paused, then asked, "Begging the Admiral’s pardon, sir, but the Skipper…?

"He’s in a ..situation. We’re working on getting him out of it. Now get the FS1 ready."

"Aye, sir!"

The Chief left, and Nelson turned, and moved to the desk. He picked up the intercom and called the Radio Shack. "Sparks, I want to talk to Michael Taylor at ONI, and I want to talk to him now! "

"Aye, sir!"

"Chip, once I talk to Michael, we’ll know what we can do, and if we can get to Lee…"

 

 

He woke with a start. It was Hot! Unbelievably hot!!! He reached for his canteen, and took another small sip of water. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked out at the vista before him. In the far distance, he saw a small mountain range. He knew that this was where he had to get to in his next night’s travel. It was a good distance off. If he couldn’t make it in a night’s travel, he knew he would be in dire straits. He shrugged off the idea that he wouldn’t make it. He would…he didn’t have the choice. He moved, stiffly, the arm and leg wounds still throbbing. The desert was hot and shimmering, the sun high in the sky. Lee checked his watch and settled deeper into the rock formation. Night would come soon…

 

 

Night did come, too quickly for Lee. He woke to a cool, and clear desert night. He pulled himself from the hiding place, and stretched his aching muscles, and injured limbs. The hike would be a long one, impeded by his leg wound, but after taking another mouthful of water, he started out towards the mountain range.

 

 

Hours later, the range seemed no closer, and he was rapidly running out of strength. He wanted to stop to rest, but he couldn’t. He knew that it was cool, but he was hot. His wounded arm and leg were constant causing waves of pain to wash over him, slowing his progress down. He was pushing, pushing to get to the range of mountains, still a dark shadow in the distance. He tripped, and fell, and lay there, sprawled in the desert sand. Slowly he pulled himself to a sit, and then to his knees. His leg refused move and he took several deep breaths, and tried to rise to his feet. He stood. Swaying, he began to stagger in the direction of the range.

His mind was focused on one objective only. He pushed forward, then stopped and listened, did he hear horses? He shook his head in disbelief.

‘Hallucinations, Lee?’ he asked himself. He knew he had a fever, but…

The sound of the horses came closer. He slowly turned to his left, and saw number of riders on horseback approaching him, dressed in dark colors, that blended with the night. Quickly, they came at him, and surrounded him. He was growing more dizzy and unsteady on his feet. As he turned around, he saw the riders revealed nothing of themselves. He put his hand to his forehead, and he wanted to talk to them.

He knew that he was trapped, that he had no way out of this!

He started to speak, "I… I’m…Crane…Lee…Crane… I…."

The world around him spun at right angles, and the desert sand was cool on his burning cheek as his face met the soft sand. One of the riders slid off their horse, and swiftly went to the man lying on the ground. A hand was pulled from a glove, and a slender, delicate set of fingers brushed his forehead. The owner of the hand nodded towards two other riders, who dismounted and came towards the Captain of the Seaview and the other member of the party. The person at Lee’s side rose, and the two other riders lifted Lee and carried him to one of the horses. The rider mounted and Lee was passed up, and laid over the front of the saddle, and the other riders mounted, and the entire party moved out, melding into the desert night.

 

 

He was hot! There was no escape from the heat. It seemed to be inside of him, and nothing he could do would make it stop. If he only could cool off, and sleep! But there were voices, and cool hands on his body, and then cool pressure on his forehead. Someone was forcing a bitter liquid down his throat. He didn’t want to drink it. It tasted bad. But they wouldn’t let him spit it out. His throat hurt! Why couldn’t he rest.

He saw a smiling face, and green eyes, laughing and then sad…so sad. And then the same eyes in a very young face, looking at him… and there were other, eyes too. Bright blue, and inquisitive, steely blue, and friendly, turquoise eyes, brown eyes, and blue eyes, so many sets of eyes…. All looking at him…looking for him…someone was forcing more of the bitter liquid into his mouth. He wanted to tell them to stop…to make them stop…but he was so tired and hot. Then, he found himself falling downward into a deep, unyielding pit, that was velvet and slick, and then, suddenly, very, very cold!

 

 

The figure in the translucent, black silk caftan moved quietly around the large tent. She was wearing a head and face veil, as well. The material was of the finest, lightest silk, and flowed loosely around her. Tiny golden balls trimmed the material on the veil and caftan, and tinkled lightly as she moved Its black color did little to hide her lithe form, for the silk moved as she did, clinging to her, and then swirling away, revealing the fact that she wore no undergarments. She gracefully knelt next to the man on the pillows that made up the bed.

His lean body was covered in perspiration, and he was fevered and delirious. There were large, white bandages on his arm and leg, visible as he twisted and turned in his fevered madness. She had carefully bathed his body several times with cool, scented water, but it had not helped him. She had fought with him to keep the coverlet to lightly cover him, but he pulled and pushed it off again and again. Although he was a strong man, he had been weakened by his injuries and fever. She finally was able to calm him slightly, and now, he rested, though uneasily.

He was calling for people, people she knew that were close to him. She tried to soothe him, murmuring soft words to him, to help him rest. He still fought her, but not as strongly. The brew of herbs that their doctor had forced him to drink had quieted him somewhat. He was still so ill, and she was quite worried for him.

It had been three days since they had found him in the desert. His wounds had begun to fester. The bullets had been more than bullets alone. The head of the Police Guard, Major Amin frequently used the bullets to carry additional surprises for his victims, sending infections and disease, in and on the projectiles. He liked to feel that his prey, if they managed to escape him, would suffer a great deal before they began to get well, if the bullets did not kill them. The bullets that the doctor had taken out of the American obviously carried some more exotic mix that his body was indeed having a difficult time fighting.

He was thin, a thinness from his recent mission, she thought. He was very handsome as well. She watched him as he slept restlessly. He was calling in his sleep. ‘Cathy…Cats! No!! No!…Admiral! Chip! She’s gone!!!! She’s gone!!!!" his voice was sad, so sad and full of pain.

Aliysha el Fayad, Bedouin Princess, leaned over, "Shh…" she held a wet rag to h is lips… "Shh… you are ok, Lee." He had announced his name when they had found him. "You are safe…Shhh…."

He looked at her with eyes that were fever-glazed and unfocussed. "Cathy…How are you? How is the baby?" Her golden eyes were sad for him. She, too, knew the pain of loss.

She patted his hand gently, "Fine, the baby is fine."

"Cats, I’m cold… so cold!" She saw that he was shivering. She clapped her hands, and signaled for more blankets. Several servant women brought them in, and placed them on him. He continued to shiver…

‘Cold!’ He cried out. His teeth were chattering. The additional blankets did not seem to help, so the woman at the bedside made another decision. Sliding out of the caftan and veil, she slid under the blankets, and wrapping her arms around him, held him close to share the warmth of her body with him, until the shivering stopped, and he began to fall into a deeper sleep…

Lee was aware, even in his fevered state of a soft and warm body next to him. He was aware more of the warmth than of anything else. There were warm arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly and a warm, pliant silky form molded to his lean frame. The warmth was what he felt more than the soft, yielding body that lay there with him. His awareness was on different levels, but he was grateful for the warmth, and pulled the warm form closer to him, to drive away the cold that was in his bones, and in his body. He was trying to drain the warmth, to make it a part of him.

Aliysha felt his hands pull her close. Some deeply rooted part of her wanted this man, even though she knew he was not aware of who she was or why she was here. Her body, so long without a man, stirred in reaction to his caresses. She could not allow it In her heart and mind she knew it was wrong to take advantage of him, but it would be easy, so easy…and he was such a handsome man!

She held his hands in hers and whispered gently to him, "No, Lee…no…not now…another time or place…" He pulled his hands from hers and pulled her to him, holding her close.

"No!" he replied hoarsely, his voice ragged and rough with fever, pain and something more. "Now!" He kissed her, a kiss that left her breathless, and desiring more, but she knew she had to stop him. She pushed him off. His hands tried to pull her toward him, but she was quicker, and she slid quickly from the pile of blankets and pillows. He tried to reach for her, but fell back to the bed, too weakened to follow her. She smiled, realizing the chills had passed. He sank deeper into the pillows, sleep finally finding him, and pulling him into its arms. Aliysha slid into her caftan, and rearranged his pillows and coverings. His body felt less warm, and his breathing was more regular than it had been in days. Perhaps the crisis had passed.

She clapped her hands and her serving women reappeared. Speaking to them in soft, but authoritative tones, they scurried about. Two of the women left the tent, and then returned arms filled with a mélange of items that their mistress has requested. With a tenderness and skill borne of years of tending injuries, the women bathed him again, and changed the bandages on the wounds, and settled him into fresh pillows and coverings. Aliysha watched and helped care for him, and when he was finally settled, her women came to her.

They took her caftan from her, and as she stood there, bathed her body, as they had bathed Lee’s. They toweled her and powdered her, and then took a fresh caftan, and slid it over her head. This caftan was also a silken one, of a deep purple color. It set off her golden eyes, and her very light blond hair, a legacy of her Circassian ancestors. She smiled at her servants, thanked them for their work, and dismissed them. Then she sat at Lee’s bedside, a small book in her hand, carefully watching the sleeping Captain.

Her thoughts were on the man in the bed, and the stolen moments that they had shared. He had awakened a hunger in her that she thought was long dead.

She had been married at 14 to a much older man who had loved and cherished her as his wife, and mate. She had shared much with him, and he in turn had tutored her in many things. She was most astute in politics, which if she was to continue to protect her people was a necessity. Her greatest sadness had been that she and her Beloved had not had a child. She had been unable to conceive. After her beloved had been killed almost ten years ago, the protection of her people had become her responsibility. In effect, the tribe had become her children. She had proved a good leader, allying her people with the underground, yet keeping the government in power in complete ignorance of her true alliance.

That was how she and her men had come to find Lee Crane. Once he had passed the microchip to his contact, another Bedouin tribe had taken it to the computer where it was needed. His contact had been caught in a trap, and shot. Before the man died, he had betrayed Crane, and the others in the safe house.

The Police Guard had staged a raid on the safe house, and before Lee had had a chance to escape, he had been wounded. He had still managed to flee and found a way out of the city, to the desert. The underground had notified Aliysha, and she and her men had begun a search of the area out of the city for him. The government let the Bedouins come and go without much care, there were so many tribes. So they had free range of the desert and it was with relative ease that they had found Lee Crane…

She sat, looking at the man, and thinking. She had not been with a man since her beloved had died. She had had many opportunities to remarry, and to take lovers. She had rejected them all. She had to protect her people. And a man, coming into the tribe, would have created more problems for her work with the underground. But this man, this Captain of the very exotic submarine, Seaview, he moved her in ways that she had not been in years. Even in his fevered state, his touch was a knowing one. There could be so many possibilities here!

But his dossier led her to believe that he would not be willing, once he regained himself, to spend any time with her and the tribe. He was a man who had many things to do and he seemed to have a passion to do them. His overriding passion was his submarine. His dossier indicated that he had a connection, a devotion to her and his men, that was indeed, extraordinary! He had been married, and his wife was dead. He had a young son. He had a strong relationship with his employer/friend, Harriman Nelson. It could be said that for all its strengths, it was also his one weakness. He frequently did missions for the ONI, the American agency that had brought him here to this country. No, if his dossier was correct, there would be no interest, no time for a dalliance with a bedouin.

She sighed, and believed that she would have to live with the disappointment, knowing that she would not have the opportunity to better know this fascinating American.

 

 

Harriman Nelson slammed the phone into the cradle. His face was a mixture of anger and frustration, and real concern as well. He lit a cigarette, and walked around his desk.

Chip Morton was sitting in the chair, observing his commanding officer. The two men were concerned about Lee Crane. Nelson was moving everything he could to get answers, and was getting none!

He took two puffs of his cigarette, and looked at Chip, tersely he said to his Exec, "We wait!"

"I beg your pardon, sir! We wait?!"

"We wait, Chip! Orders from the Crossing Guard . We do know that he’s in the hands of the underground. He was wounded. He is safe, and being taken care of. We wait! The underground will let us know when and where to find him."

"Admiral, this is Lee we’re talking about!"

"Don’t you think I know that! We wait! According to Michael, he’s in no present danger, and he’s safe!"

"Sir!"

"I don’t like it any more than you do, Chip. But we have no choice. The underground will contact us and let us know when and where we can pick him up. Until we hear from them, we wait!"

 

 

He stirred in the bed. He was aware of the very soft that he was lying in. His mind was surprisingly clear for the first time in a long time to him. He recalled vague images of a soft and warm body in the bed with him, and felt for it. Finding no one, he shrugged it off to a hallucination. He moved and was stopped by the deep pain in his left arm and leg. He moved again, and realized that under the blankets, he was, indeed, completely naked! He was too weary, too weak to react with anything but acceptance of the fact. In another time or place, he would have felt complete embarrassment with the awareness of it.

He turned his head and looked around this space where he lay…he saw the roof above, the hangings, the pillows and divan on which he found himself, and realized that he was in a tent. He looked in the direction next to the couch or divan that he was lying on, and saw a woman, sitting there next to him. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, and over her shoulders. She was wearing a dark purple caftan that set off her fairness. She heard his movements in the bedding and brought her eyes up to meet his. Light, golden eyes met amber-hazel ones. She smiled at him, immediately cognizant of his higher level of alertness. He returned the smile, with a hesitant one of his own. She moved closer to him, and reached out and touched his bare shoulder with a feather-light caress.

"Captain Crane…?" she asked, her voice a gentle tinkle, like a small bell, "I am glad that you have come back to us. You have had us very worried."

He was puzzled at her knowledge of him, especially his name… "How…?’

"I am Aliysha el Fayad, Captain. You are in the camp of my people. We are friends, and are more than happy to help you…"

He tried to raise himself up, but weakness made him fail miserably. He sighed heavily.

"Don’t try, Captain, you have been very ill." He touched his bandaged arm, and looked at her questioningly. "Our doctor is taking care of you. When we brought you in here, the wounds were infected and festering. The doctor removed the bullets from them. There was an added complication of a high fever. We believe that the bullets were ones that were specially treated for the Guard to use to infect their victims. He also said that you could expect some problems with your leg… the bullet went very deep, and did considerable muscle damage. It will take a while for it to heal."

He nodded, and then gestured to himself, " and the rest?" he asked. She returned his question with a light laugh, and a smile.

"As I said, Captain, you were very ill. You had a very high fever. We were bathing you with cool water to keep the fever down." She grinned at him slyly, "And it is easier to bathe someone when they are unclothed!"

He blushed in embarrassment, and she smiled at him. "Do not be embarrassed, Captain." Her voice became slightly more husky, "You are quite a handsome man!"

Lee shifted, uneasy with her openness. At that moment, the flap into the room opened and a man, dressed in the loose flowing garb of the bedouin men came into the ‘room’. He dropped to his knee in front of her and salaamed.

"A thousand pardons, my lady, for the interruption. But this is of great importance!"

She lifted the face of her captain. "Speak" she said simply and quietly.

He nodded curtly, "My lady, Rashid has radioed that a convoy approaches. It is but a half hour off. He radios that the word from the city is they seek the American. Your orders, my lady?"

She rose from Lee’s bedside and paced briefly, then she turned to her man. "Have our people continue to do their usual routines. Send Omir, the physician, and my women Selima and Yasamine to me. When the convoy arrives, send the officer in charge to me."

"As you wish, my lady." He turned on his heel and left, caftan billowing behind him.

Lee made an attempt to rise once again, only to be gently restrained by Aliysha. "No Captain, you are much to weak to attempt to either leave or help to fight. This is my battle. Leave it to me. You are our guest, you are in our care, and most importantly, you have helped our people, and now it is time for us to help you!"

"You don’t understand, Ma’am… I can’t be taken a prisoner! My clothes! There is a capsule…!"

"No," she said firmly, "You don’t understand, Captain. You will not be taken. They do not even know if you are here….I promise that they will not find you! And I never break my promises!"

An older man threw open the tent flap, followed by two tiny, veiled women. The man went to Aliysha, and bowed and then spoke, "Madame, you sent for me?"

She smiled softly at him. "Yes, Omir. You have heard of our problem?" he nodded, and said, "I believe that I have a solution…" He lowered his voice, and spoke to her in the softest of tones… The serving women faded into the background. Lee lay there, waiting. There was very little he could do. He was too weak to even pull himself to a sitting position. Yet, as weakened as he was, still anxious to do something!

Aliysha and the physician split apart, and she subtly signaled the serving women. The physician moved to a low table that held a number of goblets, and decanters with a variety of liquids. He poured an amber potion into a goblet, and then drew a powder over it, unseen by the man on the divan. He moved with a fluid motion to the bedside, and leaned toward Lee, holding the cup to his lips.

"Drink this, Captain. This will help with the pain." He reached behind Lee’s head, and lifted it to the goblet. The amber eyes looked at the doctor carefully, and trusting instinct, drank the proffered cup. The physician put his head gently back down to the pillow, and watched carefully as the younger man’s eyes grew rapidly heavy and his breathing steadied. The doctor checked Crane’s vital signs, and then turned to Aliysha. "He sleeps. He will sleep for several hours, nothing will disturb him. We can hide him, and he will not wake."

"Thank you, Old friend. We will do the rest now." He bowed and left, turning to give her an admonition at the flap of the tent.

"Be careful, my lady. They are dangerous, these men of the guard." She nodded solemnly, as the two serving women scurried around the interior of the tent, arranging and rearranging the furnishings.

 

 

A half hour later, Aliysha’s Captain escorted another man in an Officer’s uniform into her tent. He was followed by four enlisted men, with rifles that bore mounted bayonets. Aliysha stood in the center of the tent, her serving women flanking her several steps behind her. She was wearing a heavy, deep blue and gold satin caftan, trimmed in heavy gold braid, and encrusted with tiny diamonds, sapphires, ambergris, and turquoises. At her face, she wore a sheer blue veil, also gold and sapphire trimmed, and her long golden hair was covered by and equally fine golden veil. On her tiny feet she wore golden, jewel encrusted slippers. On her neck, she wore, several heavy golden chains, and golden, jeweled bracelets jingled at her wrists. On her fingers, she wore diamond, emerald and sapphire rings, and jeweled earrings hung from her ears. That she was a princess of the Bedouins was not in any doubt. Her carriage was royal, and her bearing haughty and most formal.

She stood, waiting for the officer to greet her…in the manner befitting a princess. Finally, he salaamed, and greeted her with, "Good day, my lady. I request an audience on a grievous matter." She gestured to the pillows next to her, for him to sit, sitting herself down and clapping her hands once, for her serving women to bring goblets, and drink. She directed them to pour and serve with gestures, not speaking a single word to him, or to them.

Once the refreshments were poured and the servants had melted again into the background, she finally spoke to the man.

"Major Amin, I had not thought to see you again. What is your purpose here?"

The man smiled a slick, oily smile that reminded her of the deadly cobra. "My dear Princess el Fayad, I have not seen your lovely person in several years. Would you believe me if I said I felt it time to renew our acquaintance?"

She smiled humorlessly at him. "It seems to me if you come into the camp of poor Bedouin shepherds, with rifles armed, and bayonets mounted, that you are looking for more than to renew our acquaintance, Major."

"Why, my dear Princess, I do not know what you are talking about. It is true, sadly, that renewing our ‘friendship’ is not my primary objective here." He lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed it. She shivered at his touch. "I could be persuaded, however, to forget my mission, if you were to give me even the least encouragement. He leered at her, hopefully, yet knowing the outcome of his request even before he even finished saying it.

She pulled her hand from his grip, and simply said to him, "I am sorry, Major, but I am afraid that my people take all of my time." She smiled at him thru the veil, "I have no time for affairs of the heart."

He watched her as she lifted the veil to drink from the goblet. Satisfied that the drink had not been tampered with, he sipped his carefully. The wine within the goblet was surprisingly full and mellow, with a sweet honeyed taste. He put his goblet down. "Then I must get down to the reason for my visit, Lady. We have had a terrorist steal some valuable material from our government some three days ago. We chased him into the desert. He was wounded. We would like to search your camp. He cannot have gone far, and we think he may have made his way to your camp."

She smiled at him through the veil, " Why go ahead, Major. You will see that there is no one here that does not belong."

"Thank you, Princess. You won’t mind if I start here?"

She nodded ‘NO’ and the Major snapped his fingers against each other. The men with the bayonets began to move about the tent, moving slightly, and piercing deeply into the pillows and comforters that ranged around the room. Aliysha sat unmoving, her servants, unseeing as the soldiers tore into the furnishings. Ten minutes later, the major snapped his fingers again. He rose from his seat, and slid a hand beneath her arm to help her to stand. They stood eye to eye, her gaze never wavering. He bowed to her.

"Thank you, Princess. You have been a large help. I will be sure to tell the Chief of the Guard of your unqualified help!" He bowed to her from the waist, turned on his heel, and the four men followed him as he left. The serving women started to move, but she gestured them back. She stood resolutely in the center of the tent, listening to the soldiers attempt to terrorize her people. After twenty unsuccessful minutes of that behavior, she heard the armored cars engines start, and heard them roar out of the camp.

She motioned Selima to the front of the tent. She signaled that there were no more soldiers in the camp, and the three women went to a corner of the tent to a hi pile of pillows and quilts that had been particularly ravaged by the soldiers. Picking their way thru the debris left behind, they moved to the form of Lee Crane.

He had not moved since they had hidden him, but to their dismay, one of the bayonets had found its mark. There was a long, open wound in his side. Aliysha sent one of the serving women to get Omir, as she and the other servant struggled to get him to a better, more comfortable place in the tent.

When the physician arrived, he found that two women with Lee. He was lying on pillows in the center of the tent. A white sheet covered him to the waist. Another white cloth lay on his side, slowly reddening. He looked at Aliysha in askance. "Lady…?"

Her lips pressed tightly together, she answered his unasked question. "They were making sure we were hiding no one. They punctured all the pillows and quilts in the room. We had hidden him under a pile of pillows…"

Omir knelt at the Captain’s side. The small boy that had followed him, offered his case, as he knelt, and examined the wound in Crane’s side. All the while, the Captain didn’t move, didn’t react. The physician was satisfied that his potion to keep the American unconscious had worked well, and had indeed saved his life as well as the lives of the entire camp. He did not want to think of what would have happened if he had been found. Omir worked quickly, and when he was finished, he took a bottle and poured some of the content into a spoon, and forced it into the injured man’s mouth. Then he rose and went to the Princess.

"It is a very deep wound, my Lady. It will be several days until we know the outcome. I have given him an opiate, and I will leave it, and some other herbs and other preparations for him. He will be in a great deal of pain for some time. It is best that he remembers little of it."

"Should I send for his friends to return him to his people?"

"I would not move him for some time, Lady. It will be too dangerous for him… As I have said, it will be several days before we know the outcome. I will return later, to see how he is doing. You, too, need to rest, my Lady. You have already spent days nursing him."

She placed a reassuring hand on the arm of her physician and friend, and dropping the veil from her face, smiled at him. "I will be fine, Omir. I will be fine…our guest needs my attention now, not I!" The physician shook his head in discouragement. ‘My Lady is a stubborn one. She thinks she needs no one…If only she and her husband had had a child! Perhaps then she would not be so stubborn, so single-minded! The way that she looks at the American… I will have to consult the astrologer…there may be something in the stars.’

He bent his knee to her in respect, "As you wish, my Lady." He left the tent, the boy scurrying after him, anxious to please his master.

Aliysha clapped her hands, and her servants came to her. "I wish to remove these trappings of office! Bring me the orange robe." The women moved quickly and surely around the tent, a ewer of scented water, and a bowl appearing, along with towels and her change of clothes. The women worked quickly on their mistress. In a few minutes, Aliysha was bathed and changed, and she settled herself into the cushions next to Lee Crane. As the women left, she again looked hard at the Seaview’s Captain.

She was wearing a gown of the sheerest orange silk, the contours and colors of her beautiful, well proportioned body clearly visible thru the sheer material. It was held closed by four large, golden frogs, down the front of the robe. Any man looking at her at this moment, would find her most desirable. She found herself wondering what he would think, how he would react. Her inner self smiled, somehow knowing that he would be attracted to her.

As she looked carefully at Lee again, she was struck by the pallor of his skin. She reached over to feel his forehead, and she felt the beginnings of a fever, his skin feeling cool and clammy, yet his cheeks were warm, and beginning to take on a flush. She again checked his side, the wrapping on the wound staying dry, and, at least for now, bloodless. She also checked his arm and leg wound, and was also pleased to see that they, too, were bloodless.

She reached for a bottle of syrup next to the bed, and poured some into a small glass. Gently reaching behind his head, she propped his head, and touched the potion to his lips. Softly, very softly, she whispered his name, "Lee…Lee… Try and drink this…Lee…" He moaned and brushed at her hand weakly, trying to push the offending glass and hand away.

He wasn’t aware of where he was or what was going on … all he was aware of was someone trying to force another sweet, sticky liquid into his mouth. He really didn’t want to drink anything. He wanted to sleep. ‘His side hurt! What was wrong? His arm, his leg and now his side…’ he moved his head back and forth several times. His mouth wouldn’t work! He wanted to tell them to leave him alone! He forced his eyes to open, but his vision was blurred. His mouth was cottony and dry, and he couldn’t put a cohesive sentence together… In fact, he couldn’t even mouth a word. Again he weakly brushed the offending cup off, to find it back at his lips, with an insistent, gentle voice urging him to drink it.

"No… I…don’t want…it!" he rasped at her.

Pleased that he was responding in some way, she pulled her hand and the cup back. She laid a gentle hand on his side, next to the bandage.

The opiate that the physician had given him dulled his senses. He had questions, but didn’t know how to phrase them, how to ask her… In spite of the dulling effect that the heavy narcotic was having on his mind, he looked at the woman next to the bed. He became very aware of the garment she was wearing, of her soft and gentle touch, of her scent of roses. And he was confused. His thoughts were all mixed with today, and years ago. Of faces, and names, and eyes… new eyes became part of the mix, golden ones, that only smiled, and soothed, and wanted nothing and gave everything.

He looked at her again… he couldn’t put the words together…he wanted to, but what ever the physician had given him, he was feeling sleepy, infinitely sleepy, and yet… he wanted to talk to this woman, …this wraith that had saved his life, …that was caring for him. But he was tired, and he had no strength left, and yet, he wanted, for some reason, to please her.

Aliysha smiled at him, and let her hand fall onto his arm, letting her fingers intertwine with his… Her voice became a light whisper. "Captain Crane, you must drink this potion from the doctor. It will help you. You must rest, sleep. You have been wounded again, and it is my fault. I did not protect you well enough… but you have my promise, now I will… I can promise you, now I will…" she lowered her voice further, and brushed her hand over his forehead, "Now I will."

His amber hazel eyes looked at her, puzzled. "But I… I don’t…I can’t seem to think…I …how did I…?"

She let her hand continue to intertwine with his, and spoke softly, her voice almost like a soft caress. " The Police Guard came, and searched for you. We hid you beneath the pillows. They stabbed them with their bayonets, and unfortunately, you were wounded. Because of the drugs that Omir gave you, you didn’t even know you had been wounded. I am deeply sorry, Captain, deeply sorry… I am obligated to care for you until you heal."

"No,…Please…my boat… the Admiral…. Get him, get them….they will come…" He struggled to move, to raise himself up. He cried out and fell backward, the pain in his side driving him to the edge of oblivion yet again. Aliysha took the small goblets, and held it to his lips.

"Drink this, Lee…It will help with the pain. Omir says that you need to rest, to sleep."

Reluctantly, he took the sweet syrup from her, and almost at once, sleep began to cloud his awareness. The pain receded behind the soft walls of whiteness and he tried, and failed to grasp at her hand. His body, tense when he was fighting her, relaxed into unconsciousness. She looked appraisingly at him. ‘If only…’

 

 

In the week that followed, Aliysha stayed close to Lee. At first, they kept him heavily drugged, so that he would begin to heal… then as the wound in his side began to heal, they began to reduce the opiate. He began to have lucid moments, first a few, here and there, and then more of them. When he was lucid, they talked, two people from very different worlds, but with a common ground, a similar cause, and a similar heartache. Usually very reticent, for some reason, Lee felt completely at ease with Aliysha. Perhaps it was the alien situation, perhaps the drugs, and his wounds. Whatever the reason, in her company he was relaxed, and at ease, and they talked. They shared their mutual beliefs, in freedom and democracy, and their deeper feelings, and they shared their similar sorrows as well. As much as politics are a common ground, so is grief, and the two of them had that in common as well. He still spent a lot of time sleeping, and under the influence of the drugs, but something else was happening as well. He was becoming more and more aware of her.

Maybe, again, it was the situation, and the drugs, but he was becoming more and more aware of her womanliness. The place and the clothes, or lack of, was more than exotic, even erotic.

This tent was Aliysha’s home. In her home, she wore caftans of the sheerest fabric, her lovely body well visible beneath the sheerness, and more than once, Lee found himself reacting, quite involuntarily to her presence.

The boat, the Institute, Nelson, even Robert, seemed far removed from his here and now. And the opiates that he was still being given, were helping to dull his usual sharpness, and need to return to the familiar. This was where he wanted to be right now…

 

 

He was asleep. She watched him again, as he slept. Now a week after his wounding by the soldiers, he was still quite weak. He still slept for most of the day, and Aliysha rarely left his side. The wound in his arm was healing, as was the one at his side. The leg wound was still worrisome to Omir, as it continued to weep, and not heal.

They had decided that if there was no further improvement in the next day, that they would ignore that caution that had protected him, and them so far, and they would contact his people, to come for him, rather than wait until he could go to them. She knew this would be her last night to be with him, while he was still too sick, and drugged to be completely aware. That he was attracted to her was obvious. That he would not act on it, on his own, was also obvious. While he was having more and more time during the day, when he was alert, and aware, his nights were not as easy. He dreamed, a lot, and for the most part, they were uneasy dreams. The only things that seemed to give him respite were Omir’s potions. She had mixed one for him this night, as she had the other nights. But to this one, she had added a few things, herbs that would not hurt him, but, if Allah and the gods were good, would give him, and her, a wonderful night…

He had called out in his sleep, more of a sound, not a name, and she reached over laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, and looked at her, not seeing her for who she was, but for what she represented in his drugged mind. She was a woman, a beautiful, desirable woman, and he reached out for her. He was driven by a need, long buried, and held in check. Something told him that he no longer needed to keep it in check. His hand reached for hers, and when they touched, a spark ignited.

That she had wanted him from that first night was beyond any question, but now, he was pulling her to him, and this time, she was willing, not reluctant. She released the fastenings on her robe, and went to him, sliding beneath the covers, molding her body to his, as he turned and wrapped his arms around her.

His lips sought hers, a search that thrilled and excited her as she had not been in a long time. She responded with warm and fiery kisses of her own. Her hands ranged over his lean frame, pausing at the bandage at his side, then continuing to caress and stroke him. Her touch set him afire.

His hands also roamed over her silken, fragrant flesh, lightly brushing sensitive nipples, drawing small cries of pleasure from her. He stroked her back and buttocks and she moaned, and pulled closer to him. She reveled in the touch and feel of him. Her body reacted, pressing against him, trying to become one with him.

He kissed her neck, her slender throat, her shoulders…working his way to her tender breasts. He first brushed each tender orb with his lips, then lightly tongued one and then the other. She felt as if his lips were leaving a trail of fire, and when his lips descended on the rosy tip of one breast, she cried out in new delight. She was aflame, her body beginning to writhe and twist in pure ecstasy. Her hands continued to move over his body, coming to rest on his manhood, already throbbing with his desire for her. As she caressed him, he moved his attention to her other breast, trailing kisses from one sweet mound to the outer. He suckled, strongly, bringing it to a hardness she had long forgotten it possible to feel. His teeth teased it, and then his tongue soothed it once again. He trailed more kisses down the valley between her breasts, and searing heat followed the path that his lips and tongue drew. She moved deeper into the pillows, and he continued to follow a path to her belly button, where he paused, and then continued to move further downward to her most private of places.

His tongue touched that most private of places and she moaned and moved. His tongue teased the tiny button of pleasure, then more intently he kissed and then sucked on the center of her being… She quivered with the sheer exquisite feelings washing over her. Her breath came in short gasps, and she cried out as he then let his tongue penetrate her most inner place. He sought her most inner self, licking and gently biting at her inner lips, and then he plunged deeply into her, drinking in her love juices like a man long thirsty. She shuddered again, allowing her body to reach places she had never been! Ali Aga had been a vigorous lover, but he had never, never made her feel like this!!! This was indeed beyond anything she had known before. He came away from her Venus mound, kissing and licking her body in places he had not covered before.

Her hands worked his manhood gently and he groaned… She began to stroke him, and with one hand, she teased him with her fingers, and the other cupped his pouch, and sent streaks of pleasure through his being. He moaned, his body responding to her sweet provocation She let one hand run over his body, and as he caressed her, she ran her fingers over his nipples, gently urging another strong spasm of pleasure from him. He rolled onto his back, still caressing her breasts, and fingering her inner lips. She kissed him long and lingeringly, carefully exploring his mouth with her tongue and eliciting deeper, more draining kisses from him. Her hands stroked his chest, his shoulders, her tongue trailing a path of liquid fire down his chest, stomach, and to his manhood, which she gently fondled, and then licked. He moaned. She took the tip of his rod into her mouth, and teased it with her tongue. Slowly, she slid him into her mouth, taking all of him in and teasing him, swirling her tongue around the head and shaft. His body moved, quivering with the all too sweet sensations she was giving him. He hardened even more and then in a rapid, yet graceful move, she mounted him, pulling him into her more deeply than she could have even imagined. Her muscles tightened, drawing him even further within her. She leaned forward, and as she moved, he matched her, thrusting into her harder and harder, until he exploded into her, and she cried out as her world blended into white hot waves of pure pleasure. Holding him still within her, she collapsed onto him, and he drew his hands around her, and held her close to him. She sighed in contentment. He held her close for a while, and then he began to run his fingers over her body once again.

She could feel him beginning to harden within her, and she gently rotated her hips, keeping him tightly within. He stroked her breasts, bringing them to an aching tautness once again. She caressed his chest, running her fingers along the lean hardness. He pulled her to him, her hardened nipples rubbing against his chest. He moaned again in pleasure, and holding her close to him, in a smooth motion, rolled her onto her back, remaining sweetly imprisoned in that most private of all places. He began to thrust into her in a strong, rhythmic pattern, that quickly brought her to the heights of pleasure, and then propelled her to new ones on spreading eddies of color and light. Several more strokes, and he joined her, and then, satiated and well spent the two of them slept deeply, limbs entwined, futures forever altered…

 

 

Omir sat in the tent of the astrologer, Osman Reis. On the table before him the astrologer had the Lady Aliysha’s chart, as well as a chart for Lee Crane. He looked at the physician and smiled.

"It is a good thing that you were able to find the birth date of the American, my friend. It helps me a great deal when looking after my Lady. This American has a very complex chart. He has had many brushes with death, and there are many more in his future. His stars and my Lady’s, do intersect. They are indeed an influence on each other, and more. This union, he will not remember it, and it is good for they are too different, their worlds do not meet ever again. And there is more, here…."

 

 

Aliysha woke in the early morning. It felt good to lie with a man again. And this man, above all others. He had been a wonderful lover, and it saddened her to think that he would not remember their night together. But she also knew, from their talks, that his heart was with his submarine, and his life was in another place, far from her, and far from here. Kissing him lightly on the cheek, she slid from the covers, and picked up her robe. She dropped it lightly over her head, and went to the ewer and bowl to bathe herself. When she finished, she went back to the bed, and sat there, watching the Seaview’s Captain, remembering the night recently passed…

 

 

Lee was having dreams, wild, erotic dreams. They were almost too real! They were better than the nightmares, but they were disturbing as well. He wasn’t used to these kinds of dreams. Once again, maybe it was the place, and the circumstances…

They centered around Aliysha, this totally exotic woman, that had been caring for him! He woke with a start, and found that she was sitting quietly at his side. He rubbed his chin, the almost two week growth of beard beginning to need to either be removed, or at least the least trimmed.

She looked over at him, hearing his movement. She smiled, "Good morning, Captain."

"Good morning, Aliysha." He moved, and winced with the movement, his hand going to his leg. He swore softly, and she was quickly at his side, lifting the coverlet to look at his leg wound. There was a large area of pinkish wet seeping through the bandage.

Concerned, she said, "I will send for Omir!" She clapped her hands sharply, and her servants came running into the tent, dropping to their knees in front of her.

"Lady?"

"Fetch Omir! And then, after he leaves, our guest and I will seek to bathe and break our fast."

They bowed and left, she turned to Lee. The beard lent him a look of her people, and she was pleased that it would add to her ability to hide him among her people if she had to. She placed her hand on his shoulder, "Omir will be here soon." Just touching him sent little waves of electricity through her being. ‘oh how she wished she could let him know how she felt, and what they had shared… But that was not to be… He had to leave, to go back to his life, to the world he knew. She knew he would never be happy here, once he was no longer ill.’

"I believe that he will tell you that we have done all that we can for you. Your leg wound needs more than we can do here. Omir and I have discussed this."

"And I believe that you must have a plan, then…?" He quirked his lips into a small smile. "If I’ve learned anything about you, I think I’ve learned that you do not say anything unless you have a plan."

She nodded, "You have learned much about me in a short time, Captain. Yes, we have a plan. But let us wait until Omir looks at that leg wound. Otherwise, you are feeling better, are you not?"

He nodded, and began to pull himself into a sitting position. He clutched at the light coverlet, pulling it with him as he sat up, a flush coloring his skin. She smiled, his reticence about his nudity still amusing her.

"Captain, you need not be embarrassed, the human body is a beautiful thing. In this country of mine, we do not have many of the what do you call them, ‘hang-ups’ about our bodies." Boldly she laid a hand on his bare chest. "You have been with us for two weeks, and you are still embarrassed by our casual attitudes?"

He cleared his throat. Her touch, for some reason, caused warmth and sparks to shoot through his being. He started to lean forward, his hand covering hers’. She began to lean toward him, and the moment was lost as Omir came through the tent flap, with his assistant, and the two servants.

He knelt before her, "Lady?"

She pulled away from Lee. "The Captain’s leg wound weeps a foul discharge, Omir."

He tossed back the coverlet, oblivious of Captain’s discomfort with his unclothed state. He carefully took the bandage from the wound, and probed the swollen, hot skin carefully. His face was a picture of complete concern, and distress. He sprinkled a powder on it, and rebandaged it, then addressed Crane and Aliysha at the same time.

"My Lady, Captain, the wound is not healing. I am afraid that whatever material was on the bullet is stronger than my meager talents can handle. I believe, my Lady that we will have to send for the Captain’s people to come for him, as soon as it can be arranged. If you need me, I will be in my tent." He rose, and quickly left.

Lee settled again in the pillows, tired out from the effort to remain alert and listen to the physician.

Aliysha again placed a hand on his arm, but this touch was a different one than before. "I will let the ONI know that you are in need of transport." she said in a suddenly businesslike manner. "Michael Taylor said that he would wait to hear from me as to when you could be moved. I know you are not ready to go on your own."

He looked at her, a slow smile creeping across his face, "And not properly dressed, either."

"We can easily remedy that, Captain." She returned the smile. Then she slowly rose from the pillows, and went to the tent flap. She pulled a veil over her face and head. "I will be back, shortly, Captain. Rest…" She disappeared through the flap.

Lee lay back into the pillows. He was still very tired. His leg pained him more than he was willing to admit, and his side was sending small sharp jabs of discomfort as if to remind him of its presence. He sighed. This debriefing, when he did get home would be a difficult one. Difficult because he remembered little of the last two weeks. Most of it was a jumble of pain, and images that may or may not have been real. ‘Home…Santa Barbara…the Institute…his boat…his son…’ He would be glad to be in familiar surroundings again. ‘Nelson and Chip won’t be letting me forget this for a long time!’

His hand went again to his chin, ‘I must look like a pirate! This beard has got to go!’

He drifted off to a more restful sleep.

 

 

Almost an hour later, Aliysha returned to the tent. The servants had turned the lamps lower again, and Lee was sleeping. She fought the temptation to join him again in the bed, knowing that it would only lead to heartache for the both of them. Let him remember the night, if he did, as a sweet dream, and nothing else. She glided around the tent, reluctant to give him the news she had for him. Finally, gathering her courage, she went to his bedside.

His face was peaceful in his sleep. She reached and touched his shoulder. He moved slowly towards her. He slowly opened his eyes. And he smiled at her, a smile completely open, and giving. He took her hand in his, and said, simply, "Thank you, Aliysha. Thank you for your help."

"Your Admiral will be here in two hours. He is awaiting permission to come to get you here. Your ONI will contact us when he is air borne." She clapped her hand, and the servants came into the tent with water and towels, and trays of food. Aliysha reached behind Lee and helped him to sit up, fixing the pillows behind him. The servants set the tray between Aliysha and Lee, and then they set about preparing the water and towels to bathe them.

Lee and Aliysha ate in silence. She watched him carefully under downcast eyes, seeing how little he did eat, and registering the reason that he was so thin. When they had finished eating she clapped her hands for the servants. Knowing this man better than he even realized that she did, she watched as the servants cleared the food tray, and sent them from sight.

" I can have two of my menservants assist you, if you so desire, Captain. I do not want you to be uncomfortable, but both you and I also know that you will need help bathing and dressing."

"If it would not be inconvenient, yes, I would prefer it."

She clapped her hands again, and two men, closer to middle age, came into the tent. They knelt to her, and then she spoke to them in soft tones. They rose, and then Aliysha spoke to Lee.

"Captain, this is Murad and Suliman. They will help you bathe and dress. I am going to the women’s tent, so that you may have some privacy." She smiled gently at him. "I have had some clothes sent here, I hope that it meets with your approval." She nodded towards him, and left the tent. The two men, moved toward Lee, and offering assistance, helped him stand, and move toward the bathing area.

 

 

An hour later, an exhausted Lee Crane sat on a pile of pillows. He was dressed as a Bedouin male, wearing the loose silken shirt, trousers, sash and soft beige kid boots. He was dressed all in white, the colors the tribes favored in the harsh light of day. He was finding the clothing extremely comfortable. Bearded, if he had to, he looked like one of the Bedouins. When Aliysha returned to the tent, she stopped in her tracks… Dressed as one of her people, Lee Crane, Captain of the Seaview, was even more handsome than she could have imagined. He looked like he belonged with them. ‘If only he could stay!’ she knew it was a wish of her heart, and her head had to prevail.

He smiled at her wearily. "That took more out of me than I care to admit. Your physician has given me a packet to give to our doctor at the Institute. And he’s given me this." Lee held up a bottle of the opiate. "He said to give it to Jamie, so he would know the medication that he had been given me."

She went to his side, and knelt down. Laying her hand on top of his, she looked deeply into his eyes, seeking to see if there was any memory of the night of passion that they had shared. Seeing none, she spoke, "I am waiting for word from your Michael Taylor as we now speak… He is making all of the arrangements for your, I believe that his word is ‘retrieval’ by your people. He said to tell you that the Admiral has been trying to move mountains to find you. He said he was most relieved to hear from him, and he would be coming himself to get you." She smiled at him "Your Admiral is quite a man!"

Lee smiled back at her, "Yes, he is. He’s a close friend as well! I’ve given him more than my share of anxious moments!"

"Well, your Michael Taylor seems to think a great deal of him too. It apparently was very difficult to keep him from searching for you on his own. Only word from your President prevented what Taylor says could have been an International incident!"

Lee laughed aloud, and then held his side, as the laughter caused his side to flare in a sharp twinge of pain. He drew his breath in sharply, and stilled his laughter. After taking several deep breaths, he said, softly. "Too much, too soon" and he shifted on the pillows.

Concerned, she looked carefully at him, and was aware of the slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead. She reached out to him, and then pulled her hand back… She knew that to offer help to him at this time would be the wrong thing to do. Instead, she rose and stepped to the other side of the tent, busying herself at nothing. ‘How I wish I could tell him how I feel? How I wish I could convince him to stay here, with me, and my people. He would be very good for us…and I could be very good for him!" she shook her head sadly, and turned to look at Lee. He was sitting on the pillows, eyes closed, and holding his side. She moved back toward him , and he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

Softly he said, "That sounds like the Admiral… He’ll push the FS1 to the max, to get here… Aliysha, I have to thank you, and your people, again…"

"Thanks is not necessary…Lee. We are simply returning the favor that you did for our people." She smiled and sat on the pillows next to him, and took his hand in hers. The other reached forward and caressed his forehead. She looked at him, slightly alarmed, and reached for his wrist, to feel for his pulse.

"You seem to have a fever building. I will get Omir." She began to rise, and he reached out and held her arm.

"No, wait a minute. Jamie will be here soon. He’ll be coming with the Admiral, if I know my ‘mother hen’. I’ll be fine, give poor Omir a bit of a rest."

She nodded, giving in to him only because she knew he was soon to be leaving them. She sat with him in companionable silence for a while, holding his hand as he nodded off to sleep again, still ill and fatigued. She slipped her hand from his now loosened grip, and rose, moving to the far side of the tent, and softly calling for one of her servants.

Selima entered quietly, and went to her mistress. Quickly and quietly, Aliysha changed from the Bedouin Princess to a freedom fighter for her country. When she was finished, she wore the garb of a bedouin fighter, blouse, pants, sash and boots. Covering her blonde hair was a turban. The color that she wore was royal purple. She covered the entire costume with a loose flowing burnoose. She had a small knife, a dagger, and a pistol tucked into her waist. Her look was one of a hardened fighter, with very little room for any argument at all. She came back to where Lee was sleeping in the pile of pillows, and the look softened. When she bent over him, she brushed a soft kiss across his forehead, and left the tent.

 

 

An hour later, Lee woke to a great deal of activity outside the tent. Many voices, and people moving around, drew his consciousness to the surface. He struggled to rise from the pillows and stand. As he drew himself to his feet, he let a small gasp escape. Pressure on the leg caused sharp shooting barbs up his leg and through his entire self. He cursed to himself. He hated being dependent, and the leg seemed to indicate that he would be dependent for a while longer. He listened to the activity, outside, and began to slowly make his way to the tent flap. He was halfway there, and the tent flap was thrown open, and a familiar stocky figure burst through.

Harriman Nelson stood stock still and stared at Lee Crane. Bearded, and in the native costume, there was something very different about his Captain and friend. Looking closer, he could see that Crane’s coloring was pale, and there were lines of pain on his face. But there was also something else, and Nelson couldn’t tell what it was.

"Lee…lad…!" He moved forward, and grabbed Crane in a warm embrace. "You had us worried, son."

"I seem to do that to you a lot, Admiral." Lee replied, his voice tinged with a touch of almost boyish regret.

There was a tightness in Nelson’s throat that he did not want to acknowledge, but he, and Chip had had their fears. Seeing Lee standing there had allayed them somewhat, but Will Jamison’s voice pulled him into control.

"Skipper, is that you? I didn’t recognize you?

Lee laughed slightly and said, "Yes, Will, it is."

"Well it looks like you’ve gotten yourself into another predicament, if Omir is correct. You shouldn’t be standing on that leg, sir. And there were two other wounds, and then the fevers and…"

"Okay, Mother Hen!" Lee laughed. "I’m yours to do with as you will!! I think I’d like to get going as soon as possible. I miss her!"

Jamison started to fuss over his Captain, and Nelson turned to Aliysha. "I can’t begin to thank you enough, Lady el Fayad. Captain Crane is very important to…"

"To you, " she said to him with a soft smile. She placed a gentle hand on Nelson’s arm, and looked deeply into his eyes. "He called for you in his fevers. He cares for you deeply!"

For some reason, Harriman Nelson felt completely at ease with Aliysha. He didn’t understand why, but he did. Very quietly, he offered, "Yes, I do!" change this tomorrow!

"I think I understand why! He is an intensely loyal man, is he not?"

"Yes, he is! Among other things! We need him back aboard the boat! And she needs him!"

"I do understand that. It is as if without his boat he is incomplete!" She paused, putting the words together carefully, "We could use someone like him here, with us, but I know that he would not stay, he would not be happy."

"No," Nelson said to her. "He wouldn’t be. His life, his world is there, not here. His son is there. There is no other way!"

"I know." She said and Nelson detected the regret in her voice, and something else, that he could not identify as well. He was about to continue his conversation, but Jamison interrupted.

"Admiral, I’d like to get the Skipper back to the boat as soon as possible. That leg of his has me very worried!" Nelson turned from Aliysha and to the doctor.

"Alright, Will. Ski and Patterson are outside. The Flying Sub is about four miles from here." He turned to Aliysha, "We came on foot. Is there someone that can come with us, and can we borrow some horses to get us back. We know that Lee can’t walk that distance."

"Admiral, you will have all that you need. My people, my country, owe Captain Crane a great debt. Anything that we can do to help him, to help you, will be done!" She clapped her hands, and her Captain of the Guard entered the tent. He went to one knee and salaamed.

"My Lady?"

She spoke to him in soft tones, and then he quickly left the tent. She turned to Nelson.

"Admiral, we will be ready to leave in a very short time. My Captain will have horses for your party, and we will escort you your ship. If you will excuse me, I will oversee the preparation." She nodded slightly to him, and left in a swirl of purple. Nelson moved to Crane’s side. The Seaview’s captain was again seated on a pile of pillows while Jamison fussed at him. Nelson could see that Lee was growing tired of the attention, and Harriman called the doctor to him. He rose, and came to his CO.

"Yes, sir?

"We’re leaving, shortly. Can he travel?"

"To the FS1? Yes. He’s just been very ill with fevers, and infections. The wound in his side was pretty severe, and the wound in his leg is just not healing. The Lady Aliysha says that the Police Guard uses bullets that have been treated with a variety of microbes, designed to make his victims ill, if they do survive the wounding. The fact that the wound has not healed in two weeks, indicates to me and to Omir that this must be a deep seated infection. We have to get moving on this… we can’t take any chances. Omir is as concerned as I am."

‘Then let’s get moving, Will. Aliysha will have horses and an escort for us."

"There’s a little more, Harry…"

"And that is?"

"They’ve had Lee on some pretty heavy opiates, he still is… he doesn’t remember too much of the last two weeks."

"Mmmhunnh. Jamie, we’ll deal with it when we are back on the boat. Let’s get moving…"

"Yes, well, I’m going to give him another dose of the opiate, just for the trip to the sub. I don’t like it, but since it’s the only heavy med he’s been on, I’m going to use it, for now. I’ll do a complete drug screen on the boat, and then determine what too use.

The down side is that its going to make him even more sleepy than he is, and he’ll need someone to ride with him."

"We’ll talk to the Lady Aliysha, and Omir see what they suggest."

Nelson turned and left the tent.

 

 

Half an hour later, the Seaview party was ready to leave. Lee was already feeling the effect of the opiate, and was very unsteady as he mounted the horse. With one swift movement, Aliysha mounted the horse behind him, and wrapped her arm around his waist, taking the reins in the other one. "Relax, Lee. I’ll be riding behind you all the way to your sub. You’re on your way home…" she whispered.

He continued to fight the pull of the drug, but eventually, he lost, and slumped backward, his head resting on her shoulder. She held him, closer, and perhaps tighter than necessary, but was grateful for the few extra minutes with him, even if he was not aware.

She deeply regretted having to let him go, yet she knew that he had to leave her, leave them…" if only this had been another time, another place, there could have been so much we could have done, together…’

They arrived at the FS1, and the Seaview’s men quickly began to prepare for leaving. Patterson and Kowalski took that unconscious Captain from Aliysha’s horse, and carried him into the sub, and strapped him into the bunk…Jamison and Omir had a last minute conference, and they parted ways, as well. Harriman Nelson went to the Bedouin Princess and extended his hand to her.

She grasped it firmly.

"I can’t thank you enough, Madame. If you ever…"

"There is nothing to thank us for, Admiral… we simply returned a favor to the Captain for his help. He is a brave man."

"Yes, he is. Again, my thanks!" He tipped his fingers to h is forehead in a salute, and climbed into the tiny sub. Minutes later, she left the desert sands and achieved her altitude, rapidly flying off into the blue sky.

Omir stood next to Aliysha, and she looked sadly at the ship as it flew off…

"Omir?"

"My Lady?"

"I think that you will need to give me a potion to sleep tonight. I will find it very hard."

"I think that in time you will sleep well, again. There are things in the stars…"

 

 

A week later, Lee was standing in front of the windows of the sub. He was leaning on a cane, and staring out at the water, as the boat made its was to her next mission. Chip Morton came up behind him.

"Daydreaming, Skipper?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, as a matter of fact. There’s a great deal of difference between the Sea and the desert, yet, they are very much the same…dark, silent, mysterious… I miss her, Chip."

"The Princess?"

"Yes, we talked a lot, when I was with it…She’s had a hard life….She’s a beautiful woman."

"The O.O.M. said as much. She really made an impression on you, huh, buddy?"

"Yes… but I guess I’ll get over it… life does go on, doesn’t it?"

"Sure does, Skipper. Sure does. Now, c’mon…no more brooding…we’ve got a boat to run!"

Lee turned from the windows and followed his Exec to the Plot table, and they began to chart a new course.

 

 

Months later….

The squall of a baby using its lungs for the first time rang out over the Bedouin encampment. The physician wiped the birth fluids from the baby and handed it to its’ exhausted mother.

Aliysha el Fayad looked at her newborn daughter, and at her friend and doctor.

"He is not to know! I do not want to interfere in his life. She will know who her father is, but he is not to know. She is a gift of Allah to me! My gift! My desert Rose!"

 

 

 

 

 

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