An Indecent Proposal

by Jaleta Clegg

"How did it go today?" Clark moved a pot off the stove.

  "The first draft is done." Jasyn sniffed the air. "That smells wonderful."

  "The first draft of what?"

  "Entry requirements. At this rate, I might be through in about ten years."

  "Jasyn, we can find someone else. I don't want to live here for ten years."

  "I don't want to be grounded that long either, but I can't see any other way around it, Trevyn. I let Leon do everything possible, but I still have to be there. I'm the one they named as the Council leader. I can't just leave it. Even if I want to."

  He wanted to smooth away the frown on her face. He wanted to wipe away the sadness in her eyes. He was helpless to do either.

  "At least they let you go home," he said, trying to joke. It didn't work.

  There was a knock at the door.

  "Tell them to go away." Jasyn didn't budge from the chair. "Seven straight days, fourteen hours a day, is too much. I'm not going back until day after tomorrow."

  The knock came again, imperative and urgent.

  "I think they know we're here," Clark said. "Hiding won't help."

  He opened the door. He was too quiet as he let in the people waiting outside. Jasyn glanced over, suddenly very nervous.

  Garvin came in first, followed by Leon and Shonteroy, the older councilwoman who had spoken in support of Jasyn.

  "What?" Jasyn snapped. "Is there a problem with the requirements? I'm not rewriting anything."

  "That's not why we're here," Garvin said.

  "What now?" Jasyn asked suspiciously. She looked at Leon. "Tell me it doesn't have anything to do with the Council."

  "It doesn't," Leon answered. "But I don't think you're going to be very happy about it." He held out a news sheet to her.

  She looked over it, skimming the headlines. It was a week old, straight from the Inner Worlds of the Empire. She saw nothing that caught her eye.

  "It's what's not there," Leon said.

  "I'm supposed to read between the lines now or is it your mind I'm supposed to read?"

  "According to Lady Rina, you could." Shonteroy stopped when Jasyn glared at her.

  "I don't care what Lady Rina said about my abilities." She waved the news sheet. "I'm tired and frustrated and I am not in any mood to play games with you."

  "Dace isn't in there," Leon said.

  "She's gone to Shangrila," Garvin said. "Vance and his mother took her there a couple of weeks ago. And before you ask, she's in trouble. We were deliberately keeping her in the news. As long as she was headline news, people were watching her and she was relatively safe."

  "She could easily disappear and no one would notice," Leon said.

  "Why are you telling me?" Jasyn demanded. "I'm stuck here. There is nothing I can do."

  "You're her clan leader," Shonteroy said. "She is your responsibility and she takes precedence over Council business."

  "But," Jasyn began.

  "You can delegate," Shonteroy said. "The others will understand. Clan loyalty supersedes all other responsibilities."

  "Why didn't you let me use that excuse when I first arrived here?" she said, turning on Garvin.

  "Because Dace was safe then," Garvin said. "She isn't now."

  "But we're outlaws in the Empire," Jasyn said. "Isn't that what you told me? We'd be arrested on sight?"

  "So I exaggerated a bit," he said.

  "Why do you care so much about her anyway?" Jasyn couldn't help asking the question.

  "I can't talk about it," Garvin answered.

  "The Patrol aren't the only ones looking for traitors," Shonteroy said. "Your friend has stirred up the entire government of the Empire. Because of her, we know where to start looking to put things back. At least far enough to stabilize things."

  "Why are you arguing?" Leon asked. "I thought this was what you wanted."

  "You keep telling me I can't leave, that I'm needed here."

  "We'll manage without you," Shonteroy said. "Now that things are rolling, it should be easy to keep it going. Quite frankly, you aren't very good at the finer points of diplomacy." Her smile was gentle, taking any sting out of her words.

  "And I thought I was pretending nicely," Jasyn said.

  "How do we get through the border?" Clark asked.

  Garvin glanced over at him. "We have a new ship id chip waiting for you at the station. Along with a packet containing information on border codes and ship routes and our contacts on the other side. You'll be given priority status all the way to the Inner Worlds. After that, you're on your own."

  "Shonteroy and I will keep the talks moving," Leon said.

  "Keep him legal," Jasyn said to Shonteroy. She turned to Clark. "What are we waiting for? Let's go."

  "After dinner," he said. "I spent all afternoon cooking for you. Besides, we really should wait until Twyla and Louie get back."

  "By then, we should have a shuttle cleared and waiting to take you up to the station," Garvin said. "Do you want to notify the rest of your crew or do you want me to do it?"

  "I'll handle it," Jasyn said.

  "Good luck," Garvin offered. "We'll get you supplies, everything you need."

  Jasyn nodded.

  "You'll have to come back long enough to ratify the trade regulations," Shonteroy said.

  "By the time you finish writing them, I'll be ready to come back," Jasyn said.

  Garvin and Shonteroy left. Leon lingered behind.

  "You waiting for a dinner invitation?" Clark asked him.

  "I'd love to stay, but I got people to see, places to visit, that kind of thing," Leon said.

  "What, Leon?" Jasyn asked.

  "I wish I were going with you," he admitted. "I miss her."

  "So do we," Clark said.

  "Bring her back safe," Leon added.

  "That's the plan," Clark said.

  "Good luck, then," Leon said, offering his hand to Jasyn.

  She didn't shake. She hugged him instead. "Thanks for everything, Leon. And if we need a lawyer, we'll be sure to call you."

  "Only in the Federation. I wasn't lying about the Patrol wanting to arrest me."

  "You want us to fix that for you? While we're there, we may as well," Clark said.

  Leon shook his head. "I think I like it here. They've got some great tailors." He waved and left.

  "I think he's delusional," Jasyn said, "That suit was the most hideous yet."

  Clark looked at the table, set for dinner. "I'll call Twyla. You call Ginni and give her the good news. Dinner can wait."

  It took them just over an hour to pack and find the shuttle Garvin promised. Louie fussed the whole way there only to fall asleep as soon as the shuttle lifted.

  "He's happy to be back in space," Twyla said.

  "We all are," Jasyn answered.

  Chapter 44

  It was early. I woke restless and edgy. I left my room, barefoot and still in my nightrobe. I padded down the hallway towards the back of the house. Quiet voices from the library stopped me. I cocked my head, listening through the partially open door.

  "The report you requested, Lady Candyce," Georges said, formal as always.

  "I assume you've read it," Lady Candyce answered, her voice indulgent.

  "Of course, that is one reason you pay me so well. It made for interesting reading."

  I inched closer to the door.

  "Someone has tampered with parts of the file." Georges sounded disapproving.

  "Then what can I trust?"

  "The earlier records were from sealed accounts. They showed no signs of tampering. It's mostly the last seven years."

  "Is she what she claims?"

  "I can't tell."

  "An orphanage?" Lady Candyce sounded surprised. "Where is Tivor?"

  Georges's answer was too quiet for me to hear through the buzzing in my ears. After the invasion of my bodily privacy several days earlier, she had the gall to invade my past as well? If I'd had my blaster, I would have used it. How dare she? I squeezed my ha
nds into fists and made myself listen. Anger wouldn't solve anything.

  "How absolutely vulgar and common," Lady Candyce said. "A trading ship? A common merchant? This is what my son brings home to marry?"

  "More than that, Lady. Her rank of admiral in the Patrol is real. That much I could verify. But the rest of her records are full of discrepancies. She worked undercover for Commander Grant Lowell."

  Lady Candyce used words I'd been avoiding. How vulgar, I thought.

  "I want to know exactly what she was doing during those times," she ordered Georges. "I want to know every sordid detail."

  I couldn't stand it any longer. I pushed the door open and walked in.

  Lady Candyce didn't blink an eye. "Listening at doors is considered extremely rude," she said, her voice dripping with moral superiority.

  "So is reading my personal files," I answered.

  "As I pointed out the other day, you are marrying my son. I have every right to know everything about you."

  "Then why didn't you just ask me?"

  "You would have told me the truth?" she asked skeptically.

  "I'm not ashamed of what I am."

  Her eyes flicked down to where I hid the scar on my belly.

  "Do you really want me to tell you what I've been doing for the last few years? Most of it is highly classified, so I can't."

  "I want to know what hold you have over my son."

  "Then why don't you ask him? Ask him how we met. Ask him about Trythia."

  That threw her. She had no idea what I was talking about. She glanced at Georges. He shook his head.

  I deliberately turned my back and walked out on her.

  * * *

  "Let's go riding this morning," Ginger announced at breakfast. They were actually awake before noon. "It's just so gorgeous outside."

  It rained the day before, a violent outpouring of water from the sky that kept us all inside. I watched from one of the sitting rooms, with the windows open wide. The others had gone to play games in the library.

  "Can we, Vance?" one of the other girls squealed. The front of her dress bounced as she clapped her hands. I was painfully aware of my lack of bouncable assets, thanks to the dressmaker. I'd never really noticed before, but now I couldn't help noticing.

  "You'll have to check with the grooms," Vance said. He looked at me. "And you, Dace?" He only called me Zeresthina when his mother was present.

  "I'll pass," I said.

  Ginger protested and the others chimed in. It was insincere. They didn't like me and I didn't care for them.

  "Really, I'm fine," I said. "You have fun riding."

  I got up from the breakfast table and excused myself. I went outside, into the back gardens. The gardeners were busy. I watched them for a while. They mostly ignored me. I watched for the cat, Falada, but there was no sign of him.

  The others came out of the mansion, laughing noisily. I waved politely to them as they took the path down the canyon wall to the stables. Vance wasn't in the group.

  I found a grassy area, shaded from the desert sun, that was empty of gardeners. I stretched and eased into my exercise routine. I did the extended version, taking my time. I had nothing else to do.

  "So this is what you do when you disappear," Vance said behind me.

  I lowered my foot and let out the breath I'd been holding.

  "You didn't go riding?" I asked.

  "Why did you tell my mother about Trythia?" There was hurt and anger in his voice, though he tried to disguise it.

  "She had my personal file, Vance." I let my own anger show, just a bit.

  "Why Trythia? That place is best forgotten."

  "I only mentioned the name to her. I don't want to remember the details myself."

  "Then why bring it up at all?"

  "She saw the scars on my back at the dressmakers."

  "What scars?"

  He didn't know? "From the beatings."

  "Don't exaggerate, Dace. They didn't beat anyone enough to leave scars."

  "Do you want me to show you? They beat me several times a day for weeks. They were trying to turn me into the personal pet of the leader's daughter."

  He frowned. "But you were working with her, she trusted you."

  "Her father didn't. And neither did the slave trainer he hired."

  The bright morning had turned ugly. I didn't want to remember any more than he did, but that didn't change the memories.

  "Why bring it up now? You can get treatments for scars. You can erase—"

  "Erase my mind? Some days I'd like to."

  "Dace, some things are better left alone."

  "Tell your mother. She's the one prying into my life and digging up every nasty little detail."

  "She's only concerned for my welfare."

  "What about mine?"

  "This isn't about you!"

  "Then who is it about? You?"

  He wanted to tell me something. The look on his face was almost desperate. His jaw worked, the muscles bunching and twisting.

  "It isn't about you or me," he said finally. He turned abruptly and stalked away.

  I watched him go. My hands were clenched so tight the nails dug into my skin. The pain of it finally pulled me out of my anger. I loosened my fists and shook out my hands.

  I'd had enough. I was leaving. Now. The price I was paying was too high. There were no traitors here, only selfish, self-centered rich people. I could walk away from everything here. I didn't want any of it, not the clothes or the social position or anything. Not even Vance.

  I turned the corner from the vegetable garden into the courtyard where the flitters were parked. I didn't know how to fly one. How different could they be from a starship? I could fly one of those, I could manage a flitter.

  "You aren't allowed here," a servant said, trying to block my way.

  I shoved him aside and walked faster towards the flitters. I could almost taste freedom again. He grabbed my arm. Another servant hurried out of the house towards us.

  "Let me go." I twisted my arm.

  "We have strict orders about you," the servant said.

  "Then Lady Candyce will be happy to know I'm leaving." I was perilously close to tears.

  Another servant took my other arm. I lashed out with my foot. They were trained. The two of them easily deflected my kick. The first one twisted my arm behind me. The pain was intense. He marched me out of the courtyard and into the front garden.

  "No one leaves without her permission," he said as he let me go.

  He turned away, back into the courtyard. The gate was shut and locked in my face.

  What did she want from me? Didn't she want me to leave? Why give orders to keep me here? I was ready to walk away from everything, including Vance. Wouldn't she let me go if she knew? I headed for the house.

  The gardener was by the bench, stroking Falada. He looked up as I came around the side of the house.

  "Is something wrong, miss?" There was genuine concern in his eyes.

  "Call me Dace, please." I needed someone to say my name, someone who cared about me. A cat and the gardener would have to do.

  "Then call me Jeden."

  "And don't let Lady Candyce hear either of us talking. You work for her. Why are you different?" I wondered about that. The other servants mostly ignored me.

  "Because you have Falada's respect." He brushed his hand over the cat's back.

  "Why is she keeping me here, Jeden?"

  He shrugged. "I'd guess because you have put her in an awkward position. She always planned on her son marrying Charise."

  "I wish he would," I said before I could stop myself.

  Jeden gave me a measuring look. "Do you really mean that?"

  "I don't know," I said and sighed. "It's complicated."

  "Falada is a very good listener. I've got to get back to work before Georges notices." He picked up a garden implement from the ground. Falada mewed at him. He stroked the cat one more time. "Trust the cat," Jeden said to me.

 
He walked away, whistling to himself.

  I sat on the bench next to Falada. "You won't tell anyone my secrets, will you?"

  Falada yawned. He stretched, arching his back and spreading his claws. He climbed into my lap and curled up. His purring vibrated through my legs. I stroked his fur.

  "At least they don't lock you up." I felt like a pet, one that made messes on the rug. "It's almost worse than Trythia. They don't beat me and they feed me better, but that's about it. How do I keep getting into these messes?"

  Falada put his chin on his paws. The purring increased.

  "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. It seemed so clear before. The longer I stay, the fuzzier things get."

  Falada sat up, poised and wary on my lap. The purring ceased abruptly. He flicked his tail and jumped down. He was a brown blur streaking into the bushes.

  "Interesting spot to sit," Vance said behind me.

  I didn't turn to look. I didn't say anything. I wanted to smack him. He sat on the end of the bench. I shifted away.

  "Dace, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that. My mother is wrong. She shouldn't have invaded your privacy that way. I talked to her about it."

  "She gave the servants orders I wasn't allowed to leave."

  "Do you want to go?" He let the question hang in the air.

  I twisted the ring on my finger, the engagement ring he'd given me. I could give it back to him. I could leave. I found myself reluctant. I didn't want to give up the security of knowing he was there. I didn't know if I had a home to go to. I didn't know where my ship was, or even if Jasyn would want me back on it. I'd been gone too long.

  Vance slid closer on the bench and put his arm around me. I leaned into the comforting warmth of his arms. He pulled me closer. I laid my cheek on his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered.

  I could stay. I could marry him. He did care about me. I could settle for that much. He knew who I was and he still wanted me, scars and all. It would be enough.

  Chapter 45

  Lowell walked into the conference room, his hands full of mem sheets. He spread them over the table before he looked at the assembled people in the room. Most of them wore uniforms that not very long ago were Patrol. It was painfully obvious where the patches had been removed. They hadn't been replaced, not yet. Lowell felt oddly out of place here, now, where only a few short months ago he would have been completely at ease. Paltronis, a silent shadow in Enforcer black behind him, was marginal comfort.