Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06]

by Tracy St. John

  “Why did you lie, Sletran?”

  The question stopped his clanmate in his tracks. Sletran turned to face Erybet, his expression one of genuine surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  “You went for a walk after we returned. You didn’t come home until after I was asleep.”

  The Nobek stared at him. His brows drew together. “I – I did?”

  Erybet stepped close to his clanmate. Sletran looked utterly confused … and was that a flash of fear in his eyes?

  Not sure he wanted an answer, Erybet asked, “Where were you last night?”

  Sletran swallowed. “I thought I was here. I remember getting off the shuttle. You were angry and Conyod was withdrawn. We were heading for the in-house transport…” his words died off. He seemed to struggle.

  Erybet’s heart thumped painfully. He said, “You said you were going for a walk on the beach.”

  Sletran refused to meet his eyes. “I don’t remember that.”

  Erybet grabbed the other man’s chin. “Look at me, Sletran. Where did you go? ”

  The Nobek looked into his eyes. And yes, that was fear swelling in his gaze. The expression rocked Erybet. Even at New Bethlehem’s worst, Sletran had never looked afraid.

  Despondent, horrified, sickened, yes; but never scared.

  Sletran whispered, “This has been happening a lot lately.”

  “What has? Tell me, Nobek,” he commanded when Sletran hesitated.

  “I’m missing time. I go to bed at night then I wake to find myself miles down the beach or in the market square. I don’t remember going to these places at all.”

  All those disappearances over the last few months. Did Sletran have no idea of any of them? Erybet was suddenly as terrified as his clanmate looked. More so. “Where did you wake this time?”

  “Here, this morning, in bed with you and Conyod. I thought I’d been here all night.”

  Erybet released Sletran’s jaw. Thinking out loud more than actually speaking to the other man, he said, “It’s a good thing you spoke up to the officers. Who knows what they’d think if they knew there were hours you couldn’t account for?”

  He wasn’t sure what to think himself.

  Sletran said, “This amnesia must have to do with New Bethlehem.” He sighed heavily. “I wish I could talk to Conyod. Though if he knew what happened, he’d never forgive me.”

  “You know that’s not possible anyway. We’re under orders.” Erybet fell back on the one chance they had to resume normal lives, the one ray of hope he clung to desperately. “If we can get a Matara, you’ll feel a lot better. A woman that belongs to you, for you to protect … it will make a lot of things right again.”

  Sletran’s lip curled. “I don’t deserve a Matara. Not after what I did.”

  “That wasn’t your fault, Sletran. You did all you could to stop it from happening.”

  The self-loathing in his voice chilled Erybet. “But it happened. The blood of those innocents stains me. I am responsible for all those deaths—”

  Erybet grabbed his jaw once more, putting his face in the Nobek’s, forcing him to look at him. Trying yet again to absolve his clanmate of sins that didn’t belong to him, though he knew it would do no good. “Stop it right now. I gave you the order based on flawed intelligence. You carried out that order, and when you discovered the information was wrong, you tried to stop what was happening. You must not blame yourself that half your command didn’t receive the changed order. Sletran, you did nothing wrong.”

  The Nobek told him, “That’s not how it feels, my Dramok.” His haunted eyes were filled with pain, pain that Erybet knew from his own guilt he could never hope to lessen.

  * * * *

  Conyod left Rachel’s room. He still had a few minutes before his shift started, and he headed straight for his supervisor’s office, too excited to wait for an appointment. He hoped Govi would be in despite it being early.

  He went to the head psychologist’s door. “Request permission to enter,” he said, triggering the visitor announce on the other side.

  Govi’s voice, always friendly even when giving someone a reprimand, sounded quite cheerful this morning. “Identify, please?”

  “Dr. Conyod. If I’m not interrupting?”

  “Not at all. Enter.”

  The door slid open, and Conyod walked into the large office. Govi sat behind his utilitarian desk, and Dr. Kivokan was also inside, sitting across from him. Conyod hesitated.

  Govi waved to the empty seat next to Kivokan’s. “You’re all right, Conyod. Sit down.

  We’re just going over routine administration issues.”

  “As well as your patient’s huge step forward,” Kivokan added. His handsome face gave Conyod the usual charming smile, the smile that never quite reached his eyes. “Congratulations once more on a job well done.”

  Conyod sat down. “Thank you, though I must credit the Matara’s will to recover.”

  “That is always an indispensible ingredient in healing the broken spirit. But I have no doubt your guidance made all the difference,” Govi insisted. “I spoke to Rachel last night, and I am so pleased with her progress.”

  Conyod licked his lips. He wished he could speak to Govi privately, but as second-in-charge, the subject would have to be broached to Kivokan anyway.

  So he took a deep breath and told Govi, “Rachel told me you discussed her release from the hospital.”

  Kivokan looked at their supervisor in surprise. “Do only a few words spoken truly allow this? It wasn’t so long ago she was hacking her hair off every time she found an object sharp enough to do so.”

  Conyod countered. “She’s had access to meal knives for the last two months, which she’s used properly. She has a safe hair trimmer for her hair now. There haven’t been any episodes of self-mutilation or evidence of harmful survivor’s guilt for several weeks.”

  Govi considered. He never answered any question without turning it over carefully first, even if he knew the answer. After a few moments he said, “Conyod and I have agreed for some time that she’s emotionally stable in every way except for this continuing trauma-based muteness. She’s found a way past that. I’m very comfortable letting her explore her next steps with continued, but reduced supervision.”

  Kivokan frowned. “I’ll agree her progress has been quite good, but she still exhibits some issues regarding her appearance. Her remaining scars are minimal, but she seems to see them as much worse than they are.”

  “That will fade as clans vie for her attention. I have no doubt that with the combination of vulnerability and strength that are part of her character, she will be very popular.” Govi glanced at the small vid on his wall where his Matara and daughter’s portrait was displayed. It was the only decoration in a room dedicated to minimal function. Govi hated to not be around people, and Conyod knew he spent as little time in the office as possible, preferring to visit patients and consult with the team.

  Conyod studied the vid as well, and despite his nervousness he had to smile at the lovely image. The baby Serena was a miniature version of her mother Michaela with matching black curls and cherubic face. A beautiful pair, no doubt the real reason Govi jealously guarded his hours, putting in only a couple nights of overtime each week. He was a very lucky man.

  The head therapist turned back to his subordinates. “Constant reassurance from a devoted clan does much to alleviate issues such as perceived unworthiness.”

  “Matara Rachel has shown an interest in clanning?” Kivokan sounded surprised but disinterested. His clan had opted to not enter into the lottery.

  Conyod took a deep breath. Now was as good a time to jump in as any. “Perhaps I can mitigate some of Dr. Kivokan’s concerns. Rachel has indeed indicated an interest in joining a clan.”

  Govi nodded. “Yes, she has. We discussed the lottery last night.”

  Conyod barreled on. “As you are both aware, my clan has won the right to approach willing Mataras. Rachel would like to explore the possi
bility of joining my clan. I’d like to as well.”

  Govi’s smile disappeared. He and Kivokan stared in undisguised shock.

  The head psychologist spoke slowly. “That’s rather unprecedented, Conyod. I’m not sure it’s ethical either.”

  Conyod nodded. “I know. I’ve spoken with Rachel about the concerns of patient-doctor involvement. After much discussion and deliberation, I’m convinced she is sincerely interested in me and my clanmates as potential mates. I’m certain this is not a dependent fixation.”

  Kivokan didn’t try to hide his disapproval. “You’re too close to the situation to make that determination, Doctor.”

  Govi’s tone was gentler, but he was firm. “I have to agree.” He glanced at the photo of his Matara and child again. One corner of his lips twitched upward. “However, I clanned my own Matara knowing I’d be treating her for issues of poor self-image and a lack of worth. I have not been the most objective of therapists when it comes to her either.” He looked at Conyod again.

  “You have feelings beyond those of a therapeutic caregiver?”

  Without hesitation, Conyod said, “I love her. But I never told her until I was certain she felt the same for me.”

  Another long pause as Govi turned the matter over in his mind. Conyod barely breathed in those endless seconds. Finally his supervisor said, “I’ll tell you what, Conyod. I’ll speak to Rachel myself and decide if it is in her best interests to pursue this course of action. Meanwhile, you must get your clanmates to agree to the arrangement as well. If you do court her, you will have to hand her primary therapy over to another doctor.”

  Relief swept over Conyod. Govi was giving him the opportunity, clearing a major hurdle.

  “Thank you, Dr. Govi. You have my profound appreciation.”

  Govi wagged a finger at him. “Let me warn you, I’m going to be objective about this. If I think for one second it will be detrimental to Rachel in any way, I will rule against it.”

  “Of course. I trust your judgment.” He couldn’t help the elation burning in his chest however. It was the first truly bright hope he’d felt in awhile.

  Kivokan asked, “What about your Nobek, Conyod? He’s had a little trouble adjusting since returning from the war, hasn’t he?”

  That took a little of the thrill away. Kivokan’s Nobek Akrij was Erybet and Sletran’s commanding officer. He’d know intimately what had happened to his clanmates. The evaluating look on Kivokan’s face made Conyod wonder if Akrij had gone against the security orders, if he’d shared the top secret information with the Dramok.

  Jealousy flared at the thought Kivokan might have the knowledge Conyod was desperate to discover, knowledge that would allow him to help his clanmates recover. It made him downplay how bad things had become.

  “Being put on administrative leave has set Sletran adrift. You know how Nobeks need something to keep them busy or they get stir crazy. Getting to know Rachel and figuring out how to best take care of her needs will give him an important goal.”

  Great, now he sounded like Erybet, spouting nonsense. But he refused to give Kivokan the satisfaction of admitting anything was wrong with his clan. Not only that, he needed Rachel.

  With his clan in shambles, she was the only thing worth getting up in the morning for. Worth sticking around for.

  Govi gave another of his long pauses before saying, “Whether she’ll be a positive for your clan and Nobek is a question ultimately for your Dramok to decide. Meanwhile, I’ll give you an answer about Rachel tomorrow.”

  Conyod rose and bowed respectfully to Govi. “Thank you again, Doctor.”

  He left the office to start his regular rounds, feeling positive. Rachel was determined, and he had no doubt she would convince his superiors she was definite about being with him. With Erybet determined to clan a Matara, the only opposition he could foresee from his Dramok was that Rachel’s trauma might be too much to add to their already distressed clan.

  At the end of his shift, Conyod bid Rachel a sweet goodbye for the day, kissing her until they were gasping and on the verge of another romp. The summons at her door announcing the evening meal kept that from happening. Eager to broach the subject of clanning his beloved, Conyod went home after promising Rachel he would come to the hospital early in the morning.

  He rehearsed what he would say to his clanmates the entire way home. It was with nervous hopefulness that he entered their quarters and went in search of the other two. He found them sitting on the balcony on weatherproof seating, silently watching the sun set over the ocean.

  Both wore gloomier looks than usual. Conyod hoped his news would lift their spirits a little.

  The men looked at him as he came out on the balcony, murmuring greetings. Conyod went to the low wall of the balcony, but was too excited to appreciate the way the setting sun tinged the green-hued sea with amber highlights. He faced his clanmates.

  He searched their eyes, as he always did these days, for a glimmer of warmth as they gazed at him. It was that bare touch of affection that kept him from completely giving up on the altered pair and running away. He found it. They still cared for him; they were simply too lost in their misery to display much of it these days.

  Erybet even managed a ghost of a smile. “My Imdiko is home from work before dark for a change. This is a special occasion.”

  Conyod clasped his hands behind his back to conceal their slight tremor. Undoubtedly, Sletran had already detected his nervousness, but Erybet might not have. Since it was his Dramok who had to be handled carefully in the matter, Conyod didn’t want to give Erybet any reason to refuse considering Rachel. He worried his leader would do so out of spite because of the hard time Conyod had given him over the other Mataras. The old Erybet wouldn’t have, but now…

  He smiled back at Erybet. “Actually, it is a special occasion. Do you remember Rachel?

  My patient you met last night, the one who had just begun to speak?”

  Erybet eyed him carefully. Okay, Conyod’s words had come out a little too fast, a bit too high-pitched to convey the casualness he’d planned on. But Erybet didn’t comment on that.

  Instead he answered, “Such a beautiful girl. Who could forget a face like hers?”

  Sletran added, “She was the brave one who opposed her government. Did she speak more today?” He too was managing a hint of a smile, his gaze warming on the Imdiko.

  “Much more. Govi is ecstatic over her progress.” Conyod swallowed. His next words came out in a rush. “So much so that she is to be released soon from the hospital and will be going into the lottery system. She wishes our clan to present its case for her first.”

  The eyes on him widened. His clanmates exchanged a look with each other, their expressions becoming careful.

  It was the Nobek who quietly asked, “You’re her primary therapist, aren’t you? Will considering her for clanship be allowed?”

  “Maybe. Govi is looking into the matter and will give me an answer tomorrow.” Conyod caught Erybet’s gaze and held it. To hell with pretense. His Dramok would have deduced already how important this was to Conyod. “I beg you to consider it.”

  Erybet leaned forward in his seat, his stare never leaving Conyod’s face. “You’ve had no interest in previous Mataras.”

  Conyod couldn’t continue to match that intense gaze. Erybet had a look that made him feel like he could read every thought in the Imdiko’s head. He dropped his eyes. “I have a confession to make, my Dramok. I didn’t want any of the others. I only wanted Ray-Ray.”

  There was a long beat of silence. Conyod could feel those eyes boring into him. Under the weight of that gaze, something inside his heart shrank. Erybet was going to say no.

  Sletran spoke, giving Conyod a small reprieve from the other man’s scrutiny. “Are you in love with her, Conyod?”

  Conyod looked at his Nobek. As always, Sletran regarded him with gentle strength, a look the fierce warrior reserved for him alone. It gave Conyod the resolve he needed to answer, “Yes.
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  With all my heart. She says she loves me too.”

  Erybet said, “There are two other men in this clan, men she will have to want as well as you.”

  The Imdiko dared to look at his clan leader. The look Erybet gave him, one that was almost as caring as Sletran’s, allowed Conyod to take a breath.

  He said, “I know, Erybet. She’s intelligent, though. She’ll see what good clanmates you’d be to her.” He hoped. “If you only get to know her, you will want her as much as I do. She’s smart and caring and courageous and perfect…”

  Conyod had to pause to take a breath from the recitation of all that made Rachel wonderful.

  In that moment of silence, Sletran laughed. It was the first time Conyod had heard him do so since he’d returned home from the war.

  “Conyod, you’ll be writing poetry next.” Sletran shook his head, but his smile was indulgent. For a moment he was so much like the Nobek Conyod had known, the Nobek he’d been overjoyed to clan with.

  Maybe Erybet was right. Maybe having a Matara will be enough to snap Sletran out of his trauma. Crazier things have happened, right?

  Sletran turned to Erybet. “We can’t stand in the way of this, my Dramok. It can be no worse than the other candidates.”

  Erybet snorted and took a swallow from his cup. “I have to give you that. May we meet with her tomorrow, Conyod? Spend a little while getting to know her better? That’s supposing Govi gives his approval.”

  Conyod thought his heart might explode. His clanmates were saying yes! He couldn’t help the huge, stupid grin that made his face ache. “Absolutely. Thank you, thank you both so much.”

  Erybet looked at him, his eyes bright. He blinked hard, and Conyod had to look away.

  Erybet never cried, at least not in front of him. The Imdiko was afraid the naked emotion on his Dramok’s face would bring his own tears.

  Erybet’s voice was steady at least. “Perhaps we will finally get the new start we’ve so desperately needed. Conyod, fix yourself a drink and sit with us for a while.”