Descent from Xanadu (4 page)

The customs officers took her valises to their jeep and the limo followed them away. Judd walked to the elevator as Raoul joined him and pressed the button. They went up past the wheel bay, then the galley floor, and up to the main cabin floor.

“Put the doctor in the first guest stateroom,” Judd told the steward.

“Yes, Mr. Crane.”

Judd walked to the flight deck staircase, behind which his personal cabin was located. He turned back to the steward. “Could you ask Merlin to see me?”

“Right away, sir.”

Judd went up the steps and through the door that separated his cabin from the operating crew on the flight deck. Fast Eddie was waiting with an ice-cold Coca-Cola. Judd slipped off his jacket and picked up the drink. Merlin knocked at the door as Judd sipped his drink. Fast Eddie opened it.

“Yes, Mr. Crane,” Merlin said, his notebook in his hand.

“Dr. Ivancich, Sofia,” Judd said. Merlin was already making notes. “I want a security and computer check on her. Everything we can find out.” He quickly added everything Dr. Zabiski and Sofia had told him. “I don’t want any surprises.”

“Anything else, sir?” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” Judd asked. “Ask Doc Sawyer at Medical Research if he’s heard anything about work being done on human self-cell-cloning implantation.”

“We’ll get on it as soon as we take off, sir,” Merlin said.

Judd looked at Fast Eddie as Merlin left the cabin. “Ice up a bottle of Cristale,” he said, picking up the interphone and buzzing the chief steward. “When the doctor returns,” he said into it, “ask her if she would like to join me on the flight deck for takeoff.”

Fast Eddie already had the bottle of Cristale in the bucket, as well as the two iced champagne glasses on the stand next to his seat. Judd walked to the rear of the cabin to his bedroom and began to take off his shirt. “Get me a terry-cloth jumpsuit,” he said.

Fast Eddie opened one of the closets and took out the jumpsuit and laid it on the bed. Next to it he placed a pair of terry-cloth slippers and on the bed a French silk bikini. Judd went into the small shower stall in the bathroom, pressed the button that automatically mixed water and soap, then rinsed after the water cleared again. Steam lifted out of the stall automatically; he dried himself with an oversized towel. He dressed quickly and combed his hair. He looked at himself in the mirror. Okay, he thought, but only okay. He still felt tired. And he didn’t like that. He had several things he had yet to do.

He pulled out a drawer and took out a gold vial and opened the cap, exposing a plastic bullet-type screw. He unscrewed the plastic top and a tiny opening appeared. He placed it in one nostril, squeezed the bottom of the vial, and the cocaine shot up as he snorted. He did it again with the other nostril. He felt the hit bring him up immediately. He threw the vial back in the drawer without closing it. He looked in the mirror again. He didn’t look so tired now. He smiled to himself. That’s one advantage of owning a chemical company of your own, he thought. You never have to worry about the street shit.

Fast Eddie was waiting in his cabin. He smiled. “Nothing like a hot shower and a snowstorm, boss,” he said. “You look better already.”

“You’re too fucking smart,” Judd smiled. “Are they on board yet?”

“Just coming on now, sir,” Fast Eddie said.

Judd picked up the telephone and called the chief steward. “Suggest to the doctor that she would be comfortable in one of the jumpsuits. I think a size eight might be okay.”

“I’ve already thought of it, sir,” Raoul said quietly. “But I left a size seven on the bunk. That’s more her fit.”

“I defer to the French couture,” Judd laughed, and put down the telephone.

***

The captain’s voice came over the address system. “All personnel secure. Takeoff in one minute.”

Judd looked at Sofia in the next seat. She was peering through the window. He felt the slight shudder as the big plane began to move. He glanced at her hands. They gripped at the arms of the seat. He was silent as they moved quickly on the ground and then, suddenly, softly, slipped into the air.

Her voice was low. “It seems almost like a house on wings.”

He laughed. “I guess it could be thought of as that.”

She looked down at the lights of Dubrovnik below. “How high are we?”

He pressed a button and a light went on in the cabin bulkhead in front of them. “About two kilometers,” he said. “We’re climbing up to twelve kilometers, about 38,000 feet, for our cruising altitude. At that time we’ll be flying at 580 miles per hour.”

The no smoking and seat belt lights went off. He snapped off the seat belt that crossed his chest and leaned over to help her. She hesitated a moment. He smiled. “It’s okay.”

She nodded and let him open the seat belt.

Fast Eddie came to them and placed a tray of caviar and toast on the table in front of her, then quickly filled up their glasses with champagne and disappeared from the cabin.

He held his glass to her. “Welcome to the friendly skies of America.”

“Down below that’s still Yugoslavia,” she said.

“But you’re not down there, are you?” he laughed.

“That’s right,” she smiled. She sipped the champagne. “Delicious.” She looked at the tray. “Is that really Russian caviar?”

He nodded.

“We can’t even get that in Yugoslavia,” she said.

He placed a spoonful of caviar on toast and handed it to her. “Détente,” he said, “has certain advantages.”

“I like that,” she said.

“So do I,” he said, helping himself.

“Do you have Russian vodka aboard too?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“May I have a drink?” she asked almost shyly. “Down there all I ever could get was slivovitz and that makes me sick.”

“You got it,” he said.

Fast Eddie brought a bottle crusted with ice from the freezer. He filled two glasses and left them next to the bottle on the tray as he disappeared.

She picked up the vodka, looked at him for a moment, then threw it down her throat. He caught a faint flush in her cheeks. “Enjoying it?”

“It’s been a long time.” She glanced at him. “You’re not drinking.”

“I’m not into drinking that much,” he said. “Wine and beer, a light Scotch and water before dinner are about my speed. Alcohol is a downer for me. I’m not into downers.”

“Dope?” she asked.

“Some.”

“Marijuana, cocaine, speed, mind-blowers?” She looked at him.

He smiled. “At times.”

“That’s very American,” she said. “I remember when I was there at school.” She picked up his vodka glass and emptied it and her breath seemed to come out as a soft sigh. “This is very European.”

“Dif’rent strokes for dif’rent folks,” he smiled.

She leaned against the back of her chair. “I feel warm,” she said. “I think I’m getting a little drunk.”

“If you feel tired, you can go to sleep.”

“Oh, no, I’m enjoying it,” she smiled. “This is as much fun as I’ve had in a long time. Down there everyone is very serious.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at him. “Do you have any cocaine?”

He nodded.

“May I have a little?” She saw his hesitation. “It’s okay. It will pick me up a bit. I don’t want to fall asleep just yet.”

He went into his bedroom and came back with the gold vial. He turned it over in his fingers and tapped its side; the white powder filled the plastic top. “This is an injector,” he said. “Place it in one nostril, press the bottom and snort.”

“It seems complicated,” she said. “Could you do it for me?”

He held it to her nostril. “Snort,” he said, pressing the plunger. She caught her breath. Quickly he placed it into her other nostril. “Again!”

She held still for a moment, then turned to him, her eyes wide and shining. “I felt it go right up to my brain.”

He laughed. “It does that sometimes.”

“Now I feel really warm,” she said. “Even my nipples feel hot and hard.”

He watched her silently.

“You don’t believe me,” she said.

“I believe you,” he said, smiling.

“You’re laughing at me,” she said. She pulled the zipper of her jumpsuit to her breasts. “Now do you believe me?” she asked.

Her breasts were strong and full, her nipples plum colored and rock-hard, jutting. He looked at her face. “Beautiful.”

“Touch me,” she said harshly. “Touch me for God’s sake or I’ll orgasm alone just as I have by myself for the last five years!”

He drew her to his chest, holding her head against him, his other hand cupping and caressing her breasts. He felt the shuddering racking of her body against him. Softly he pressed her long hair. After a moment she was quiet. He didn’t move.

Her voice was muffled against his chest. “Were you with the three girls they sent up to your suite?”

“No,” he said. “I sent them away.”

She was silent for a moment. “I’m glad. They had hidden cameras over the bed in your room.”

“That’s stupid,” he said. “What could that gain them?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “They had the entire suite bugged.”

“That’s standard procedure,” he said. “I expected it.” He laughed. “Nothing but children’s games.”

“They weren’t children’s games,” she said. “A man was killed and three men are in the hospital because something went wrong with their power source.”

“Too bad,” he said. “I knew nothing about it.”

She sneezed suddenly. He raised her head and handed her a Kleenex. “It’s the coke,” he said. “Rinse your nose out with water.” He showed her to the bathroom and then went to his chair.

He was sipping champagne as she returned. He looked at her. She had washed her face and brushed her hair. “You think I’m terrible?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “You’re just human. You might be a doctor but you’re also a woman, a very beautiful woman, and both of them have needs that have to be satisfied to be whole.”

She hesitated. “I think I’ll return to my cabin.”

He rose from his chair. “If that’s what you want. If you’re tired.”

She looked into his eyes. “What do you desire?” she asked.

He smiled slowly. “You already know.”

5

A faint sound of the pitch of the jet engines brought him awake. He picked up the telephone beside the bed. “How are we doing?” he asked.

“Right on schedule, Mr. Crane,” Captain Peters said from the flight deck. “We’re ten and one-half hours into our flight, twenty thousand feet above Delhi, India, and taking on fuel. We expect to land in Pekin in eight hours and twenty minutes. All systems okay and go.”

“Thank you,” he said, and put down the telephone. He turned in the bed. She was lying on her side on the pillow, her eyes wide open to him. “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning.”

“Have you slept well?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think I was dreaming all the time.”

He laughed. “You were sleeping. I know that.”

“Too bad,” she said softly. “I kind of preferred the dreaming.”

He bent across her face. “So did I,” he said, kissing her. He sat up. “Would you like some coffee?”

“May I wash first? I smell so much of sex I’d be embarrassed to walk through the plane.”

He laughed.

“I’m not being funny,” she said seriously. “Sexual excitement brings me quickly to multiorgasmic responses.”

He tried to match her seriousness. “I never quite heard it explained like that, Doctor.”

“Yes,” she said. “For example, while you were on the telephone a moment ago, just the sight of your penis even half erect with sleep caused my juices to begin to flow immediately.”

“That’s a problem,” he nodded gravely. “I understand that now.”

“It’s a psychological one, I know,” she said. “But I have to solve it myself.”

He turned on his side to her. “Is that a problem you have to solve right now, Doctor?”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” she said, puzzled. “And why are you calling me ‘doctor’? I thought you were going to call me Sofia.”

He pulled her face down to his phallus. “Sofia, Sofia,” he half-laughed. “Don’t you know that half erect is never enough?”

She looked up at him. “Now you are making fun of me?”

“You stupid cunt!” he said, his fingers gripping her hair. With his other hand he pushed himself into her mouth. “Suck it hard if you want to fuck it.”

She pushed away from him angrily. “You’re talking to me as if I were a whore!” she said, tears filling her eyes.

He looked at her for a moment, then brought her face to his own. “No, Sofia,” he said gently, kissing her mouth. “Not as a whore. But as a woman who has been denied too much too long.”

***

She followed him down the spiral staircase to the main deck. He turned when she paused behind him. “Forward of the steps is the business office,” he said, holding the curtains apart so that she could see into it. Merlin was at his desk and there were two men, each at a desk with two data and word-processor screens before them. Merlin turned to see Judd.

“Be with you in a moment,” Judd said, dropping the curtain and leading her back from the staircase. “First is the guest lounge, then the guest staterooms. Behind them are staterooms for the personnel, then the personnel lounge. Both lounges double as dining rooms.”

Her voice was hushed, but impressed. “How many people do you have on this plane?”

“Flight personnel, ten men plus the captain; cabin personnel, nine including the chef and the chief steward, five business personnel plus my assistant and my valet, you and myself making twenty-nine people on board. But we can sleep as many as fifty-one if we need to.”

She shook her head. “It is like a house! Do you really need all that? Just for you?”

He smiled. “I think so. I spend almost thirty-five percent of my life on this plane, traveling because of business. With the kind of equipment we have on board I’m always in touch with my offices and business everywhere in the world.”

“Do all you American businessmen have planes like this?”

“I don’t know,” he smiled. “But many of them have planes and some even more than two or three.”

“Too much,” she said.

“That’s very American,” he said.

“That’s what we said when I went to college in the States.” She smiled. “Too much.”