by Laura Kaighn
If he resigned from his request, there would be little shame. No Vwafar´ee. No bonding. No Dorinda. His life would have honor, his death no peace, but Dorinda would survive. It was the only way.
Vesarius blinked back to reality. He was stalled before his cabin door, had not gone inside. With one more step, his world closed behind him. The Vesar stood alone within his cramped living space with its stark, austere walls and simple furnishings. It was an example of what his emotions must become.
Five more steps brought him to his slim computer terminal. Sliding the crystal ring into the drive slot, Vesarius plopped into his chair and punched in his security clearance code. Only then did the storage disc reveal its secrets. As he read the encoded orders from Chan, Vesarius’ lips pursed. He was indeed to remain with the Alliance delegation on Orthop. He was to be part of the peace talks as initiator, liaison, and glorified mascot. It was his responsibility to provide security for the Alliance envoys. He was also to furnish them with access to the Pompeii’s computer files of Mytoki and Orthop cultures, of Alliance historical records, and of the Pompeii’s entire crew. Everything. The delegates were to know everything. Vesarius’ frown twisted to a distrustful scowl.
He was to allow this depth of disclosure, even overstepping Coty’s authority if ordered. And Vesarius was to permit this under the absolute prerogative of Ambassador Tolianksalya.
Vesarius’ scowl hardened to a steel grimace at the name. No. Tolianksalya could not be coming here. He could not be the one I am to obey. In subconscious retaliation, the warrior battered the table with one mahogany fist. Ambassador Tolianksalya was one individual with the conviction and experience due the status of an influential leader. But he was also one who had supposedly retired from service nearly a decade ago ... Soon after ...
Only glancing through the remainder of the delegate profiles, Vesarius snapped off the recording and lurched from his chair. Something clattered to the floor beside him. With a vicious swipe, Vesarius snatched the still bouncing flute from the carpeted deck. “Tolianksalya cannot be coming here.” Why did they choose him? “I … will not take orders from him.”
Growling deeply, Vesarius raised the ebony instrument into the air, poised for a vicious pitch. Aiming at the inner vision of the man who would soon arrive, Vesarius leaned the ornate flute back over his shoulder and hurled his spear. “Nejht!” The flute smacked the cabin wall. With a great crack it clattered to the floor in two pieces.
Vesarius paced the cabin for some minutes before his fiery rage began to abate with a whispery warning more rational than his Vesar blood. He must obey. For the peace of the Alliance, he must comply. He must set aside his hatred; forgive the ambassador his past deeds. The Alliance was at stake, after all – thousands of families along the border of Orthop space. He and the ambassador were to work toward the same goal. Tolianksalya and his delegates were here to bring peace. Forgive, that inner, more rational voice counseled. Forgive him; forgive yourself.
Vesarius stepped on something. It crackled beneath his leather boot heel. Kneeling to inspect the object, his Fury and frustration instantly dissolved to another emotion: remorse.
The wooden flute was ruined. Upon impact with the wall, the bulbous mouthpiece had snapped at the juncture between stem and feathered ornamentation. Now the far end had been crushed under his careless footfall. Only the barrel, with its intricate carvings and finger holes, remained unscathed. Dorinda’s intended bonding gift had been destroyed in an instant of uncontrolled Vesar Fury.
With a great sigh, Vesarius’ head wilted in defeat. He should have stayed dead. There was no honor in what he had done, in what he had felt. Tolianksalya had only performed what duty had prescribed those many years ago. There had been no choice; Vesarius had broken from tradition, caused the deaths of his parents. Now he had destroyed the symbol of Dorinda’s love.
Gathering up the two large pieces of the flute, Vesarius rose and gingerly laid them to rest on the bed beside him. She would probably cry. Human women seemed able to release their frustrations instantly in the salty drops. Huffing at a comparison, Vesarius agreed that the human method was far less destructive. Perhaps he could ask Dorinda to teach him. The training must be complicated, for tears could almost never be predicted.
With one last glance at the crippled flute, Vesarius squared his shoulders, sucked in a stabilizing breath, and strode into the corridor, stoic warrior once more. Duty was beyond personal sentiment. He must carry out his orders as stated – for the Alliance and his honor.
Coty rejoined him in the lift, and together they rode it to the bridge. The pair then strode to their respective posts, orders and conflicts unspoken. Perhaps later Vesarius would tell his captain of his plans. For now, Coty was too involved in the mission, too preoccupied with his own feelings.
If Coty and Dorinda were to be together, Vesarius must fade from their presence. He must make them both turn against him. Only then would his friends pool their energies so he could leave. With a weighted exhale, Vesarius pivoted his seat away from his captain, unaware that Coty had witnessed his unconscious expression of turmoil. Coty knew his Vesar brother well enough to recognize that only two issues dwelled in his officer’s tortuous mind and one of them concerned Dorinda Jade.
* * *
Checking her chronometer again, Dorinda sighed. “He’s late, Noah.” She flopped down on the grass and shook her head. Vesarius’ duty shift had ended over twenty minutes ago. The arboretum was near empty at this time of night. Most of the crew were busy getting dinner or were involved in evening activities. The arboretum had already cycled into twilight, imitating Earth’s natural rhythms. The path through the trees to the entry door was now in deep shadow. Only Dorinda’s ears told her it was vacant of life.
“I know he got his orders today, but I don’t understand why he doesn’t send me a message. If he’s not coming, he should tell me.” Noah sidled closer to her and trilled reassuringly. “Maybe we should go find him.” Absently Dorinda rubbed the otter’s large round head. “I bet he’s avoiding me because he can’t figure out what to say about the flute.” With a decisive sigh, she gathered her legs up under her, rose from the grass, and started toward the winding path that led to the door. As she caught sight of the glowing door release button, however, the barrier beside it slid open.
Dorinda froze amid the verdure. She lowered her hand to hush the otter beside her, for within the bright doorway to the lit corridor beyond stood a tall, broad figure – a silhouette in steel. Dorinda’s heart leaped, instantly recognizing the man. Vesarius had come. He was not avoiding her. And, she realized smiling, he had brought the flute.
Quickly Dorinda reviewed her speech, memorizing as best she could the words Vesarius had used when he had presented her with the bracelet and the pledge. He couldn’t refuse her; she would pledge herself to him. They would have to be together.
As the dark figure stepped hesitantly from the door, Dorinda felt her heart battering with his every step. They were alone ... together. She could touch him. Fingering the silver cuff at her wrist, she smiled. The pledge gift had been stored away, hidden, for too long. Dorinda would wear it openly now, for all to see and appreciate. The sterling feathers along the cuff were cool to the touch, the turquoise craggy with its coppery matrix. This was the symbol of his love. Now he had one from her. Even through Vwafar´ee they would be together. Dorinda now knew she had a purpose. Within the galactic scheme of time, she was meant to be here ... with him.
Her breath suspended in short expectant gasps, Dorinda tiptoed back through the bushes to wait for him. He would hear her soft footfalls and follow. Playfully she crept up the grassy incline to the spot where only yesterday Vesarius had showed her how to meditate. Quickly she sat within the clearing and folded her legs.
Closing her eyes, Dorinda allowed her senses to find him. Concentrating her hearing for any sound, she ignored the rhythm of her own breathing, the soft purring of the otter beside her. Yes, she could hear his boot falls, hushed thuds
against the paved trail. As he drew near, Dorinda’s nostrils flared at the scent of him, the alien musk of Vesar skin. Thrilled that she could sense his presence, Dorinda smiled broadly when he stopped behind her. Now her heart was drumming staccato in her chest. Surely he must hear it. He stepped around her, and Dorinda listened as his leather pants creaked when he squatted to her level. “I heard everything, Sarius,” she told him eyes still shut. “I smelled you while you were still twenty feet away.”
“Dorinda,” came his hesitant, deep voice. “I ...” Dorinda opened her eyes at the tone of his address. There was something wrong. “I am sorry about the flute, but it echoes my conviction.” His disembodied voice rumbled in the surrounding darkness. “I cannot ... do not love you. You are human. I am Vesar. Our bond is broken.” With that last gravelly statement, Vesarius laid the flute upon her lap, rose, and marched off.
“Wait!” Dorinda launched to her feet nearly colliding with the retreating Vesar. “You can’t. I was going to pledge my devotion to you ... with the flute.”
“Nejht,” Vesarius countered sharply palming her back. “I do not accept. I was drophtráree, a fool, to think that I could love a …a Khumahn. A weakling.” He took another step away.
Dorinda huffed in reply. “You want me to believe that, Iron Man?” She rushed to block his path, swiping hot tears from her clouding eyes. “I thought it was dishonorable to lie. I know what you’re doing,” she defended before his shadowy figure. “You want me to give you up, to save me from the Vwafar´ee. But I won’t do it. I love you, more than anything. More than anyone I’ve ever cared for.” Even in the darkened room, Dorinda felt his rising heat, his rigid stubbornness. “And I know you love me. You can’t just shut those feelings off.”
“I can,” he assured grimly and stepped around her.
“No, Vesarius. Don’t walk away from me!” Dorinda moved again to block him, but he was gone. “Vesarius?” Eyes searching in the garden’s dimness, Dorinda felt her panic swell. He was leaving, just walking away. “Damn it, Sarius. I know you love me. Your stubbornness will fail.” Where had he gone? “Damn you!”
“That is inevitable,” Dorinda heard him rumble regretfully as he stepped through the yawning arboretum door and into the bright hallway beyond.
“No ...” Dorinda started after him. Noah was at her ankle. His mouth froze her advance with a tug at her pant leg. “I’ve got to go, Noah. He doesn’t mean what he says. He can’t.” Then the otter was chattering at her, imaging the carved Vesar flute no longer whole. “The flute?” Dorinda rushed back in the dimness to get it.
Fumbling there on the grass, her hand was jabbed by the jagged end of the wooden tube. She stifled an expletive and pressed the pain back into her right palm. The wound’s warm wetness oozed through her clenched fingers. Tears erupted to chill her cheeks again, not so much from the pain. Her heart seemed crushed within heaving ribs.
He had broken her pledge gift on purpose.
Dorinda’s free hand found the snapped mouthpiece, the feather ties still attached. Then with both pieces clutched in her unscathed hand, she climbed from the grass. Dorinda pressed her injury in against her chest. With a stifled sob, she jogged through the trees toward the glowing, beacon-like door release. In a moment she was out in the corridor dripping blood on her jumper tunic. “Damn,” she mumbled undecided which way to go, who to consult first. The throbbing in her palm decided for her.
Noah groaned his concern and slinked along behind her as Dorinda trotted toward the medical lab and Dr. Sheradon. Perhaps it was time her friend and mentor knew everything.
When Dorinda tramped into the doctor’s office, Yolonda Sheradon immediately launched to her feet. “Dori, what? Let me see that.” She ushered Dorinda out into the sickbay.
“I cut myself on Vesarius’ flute,” Dorinda explained setting the two pieces down on the bed beside her and hopping up to sit.
“I didn’t know Vesarius had a flute,” Yolonda murmured. She turned Dorinda’s hand to inspect the deep gash which still bled freely.
Dorinda hesitated. “Lonnie, I need to talk with you. ... But this has to be our secret.”
Dr. Sheradon must have noticed the tension in her voice. She stopped her fussing over the cut, looked into Dorinda’s emerald eyes, and nodded. “Let me finish bandaging this. Then we’ll go into my office.”
Yolonda first removed the silver cuff at Dorinda’s wrist. She then cleaned the torn skin of Dorinda’s right palm, picking out several splinters. Next the doctor sprayed the wound with a coagulant and applied a thick coating of skin regenerator. Finally Yolonda wrapped the wound in a snug bandage before patting her patient’s lap. “All right, Dori. Come on in, and tell me all about it.” Dorinda knew that physicians’ confidences were never broken. Yolonda was also a friend. “You can trust my discretion,” Sheradon said to echo Dorinda’s thoughts.
“I do trust you, Lonnie.” Dorinda grabbed up her discarded bracelet to follow the doctor inside the office. There she sat in the chair beside Sheradon’s desk. Sitting crookedly atop that desk, Yolonda Sheradon leaned forward to listen. “I can’t hide this anymore,” Dorinda started, a thoroughbred out of the shoot. “He says it’s not proper to let anyone know yet, but ... I love Vesarius.”
“I know,” Sheradon said simply. She jerked her chin toward the silver jewelry clutched in Dorinda’s good hand. “Looks like he’s pledged to you. Am I right?”
“You know?”
“It’s hard to hide when someone’s in love,” Sheradon answered with a twisted smirk. “I’ve noticed how Vesarius looks at you. I’ve never seen him show such trust, except with Coty.” Yolonda crossed her arms and leaned back. “So he’s pledged to you. I would think that’s a good thing, Dori. What is it that’s gotten you so troubled?”
“Lonnie.” Dorinda’s heart constricted like a tightening noose. “He says his government insists we both participate in a dangerous test. In order for him to regain his citizenship, to be allowed to bond with me, we have to submit to it.” Barging on, Dorinda stammered, “But now Sarius says he doesn’t love me anymore. I know it’s just because he doesn’t want me to accept the Vwafar´ee.”
Sheradon slipped from the desk to stand before her. “How dangerous is this … this Vwafar´ee? Do you know anything about it?”
“No. I expected Vesarius to tell me. It must be perilous. Why else would he do such a drastic thing? Lonnie,” Dorinda cried, “he’s taken back his pledge. Does that mean he won’t marry me now?”
“From what I understand of Vesar culture, bonding is like marriage, but it’s also more.” Sheradon settled again onto the desk edge. She drew in her hands. “Vesar mates are joined not only in life, but in their minds as well. I think Coty explained it to you once.”
“You mean like how Vesarius knew his parents were in danger?”
“Yes, it’s a strong connection. And with your high PSY rating, Dori, you and Vesarius may be very closely linked after bonding.”
“But the pledge, Lonnie. He’s broken it. He’ll probably avoid me. Make me hate him.” That panic was rising again. Helplessness. Utter confusion. Yolonda turned those feelings on their heads.
“You’re starting to predict his behavior. And you understand his motives.”
“What can I do?” Dorinda’s heart still banged beneath her sternum. She had to right this.
“Dorinda, I can’t tell you that. Your heart must guide you. If you’re sure Vesarius still loves you, then don’t give up on him. If he’s afraid for you because of this test, then you might -”
“I should find out all I can about it and prepare myself.”
Sheradon grinned and patted Dorinda’s shoulder. “See. Now you really didn’t need me, did you? You’ve solved your own problem.”
Dorinda rose to hug the doctor. “I do need you, Lonnie.” She released her to consider the older woman’s ice-blue eyes. “I can’t bandage my own hand, and I sure can’t talk this out with just anyone.” Turning to leave, Dorinda added, “Thanks
for understanding. Vesarius said many of the crew’d be upset about our relationship.”
“They will be,” Sheradon countered earnestly. Dorinda stalled her retreat at the office’s threshold. The physician spread her arms and continued her explanation. “You see, it’s never been done before. You two must be cautious. Thirty-seven years ago the Vesar were a desperate, violent people asking for peace. Trust doesn’t come easily within a lifetime. It may take several generations before such acceptance as you’ve shown is the rule rather than the exception.”
“Then Vesarius was right,” Dorinda admitted squaring her shoulders with the burden. “Our being together will cause a lot of misunderstandings.” She searched her own history for a comparison. “Like after World War II and the distrust of the Japanese. Or the first bi-racial marriages in the southern United States. In North Carolina there’s still a big hubbub about gay marriages. Well, back in 1999, anyway.”
Yolonda was shaking her head as she sank into her desk chair. “This is worse, Dori. Human is human. Vesar are an alien species.” The doctor waved her hand for Dorinda to approach in confidence. “You must understand. The Pompeii is a human ship, Vesarius the only Vesar onboard. To some it’d seem he was acting criminally, seducing you, taking advantage of your naiveté in this century. You’d be viewed as the victim, brainwashed to accept him as an appropriate suitor. To some in the Alliance, it’d even be considered sacrilegious. Or worse, bestiality.”
Sheradon sighed from her seat. “Dori, I know what it’s like to be in love, but this may be more than either of you can handle.” The doctor rose to lean forward of her computer monitor, palms stalwart upon the desk’s smooth surface. “If Coty allows this on his ship, that’s one thing. But don’t expect others to respect or even acknowledge your relationship.”
