Wild Cards X: Double Solitaire

by Melinda Snodgrass

  “No. Ilkazam had just been ejected from Festival when I left. Shouldn’t be too long.”

  Tisianne groaned. “Oh, Ancestors, I ruined everything.”

  “Well, let’s just say you had a rather stunning effect on the proceedings.”

  Rescue hadn’t been long in coming. Bat’tam had been left in the cell. Mark had rushed Tis back to Rarrana and into her suite, where they were now tensely awaiting the inevitable arrival of Zabb.

  “Here, try this,” said Mark. Supporting her head, he held the glass to her lips. She swallowed with difficulty. Suddenly Tis stretched out a hand to Mark. The ace was pleased to see it. As a man Tisianne had needed a lot of physical contact—a need that on Earth had driven most of Tis’s male friends to distraction. Now as a woman she could scarcely tolerate it.

  And who could blame her? Repeated rapes and beatings. I wonder if she’ll ever be right. I wonder if she’ll be right even if we get her back where he belongs.

  Mark assumed the good old smiling Mark Meadows face, took Tis’s hand, and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

  “What’s that expression mean?” Trips asked.

  “I am trying to imagine you kissing me.… I mean me, me. I’m failing.”

  Hooking a chair with a foot, Trips settled, folded his arms on the edge of the bed, rested his chin on them. “It was a really dumb move, man.”

  Tis sighed, shifted, searched for a comfortable position. “I know, but at the time my good sense was being subsumed by raw panic.”

  “I can dig that, but Jay was ready. We weren’t going to let him take you.”

  “That’s all very well, but I didn’t know Jay was there.”

  “Besides, Zabb had a backup plan. He was going to use one of my friends to rescue you.”

  Her laugh was more like a yelp of pain than humor. “Rescue me? Oh, that’s rich. I’m certain his rescue would have been as assiduous as his attempts to recover my body.”

  “Don’t be an idiot, cousin,” Zabb said from the doorway. He sauntered into the room and dropped into an available chair, lounging comfortably. “Of course I’m not going to help you. You become male—we become enemies again.”

  “What makes you think we’re not now?”

  “That still does not mean I wish to see you in the hands of that madman—”

  “No, you’d like to see me dead,” Tis accused.

  “With every breath you accuse me, but every breath you draw is a gift from me. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. And by the way, you can be a real bitch.” Zabb held up a restraining hand. “No, don’t reply, we have more important matters to discuss. Your little … performance has shattered my painstaking and carefully constructed alliance.” He cocked his head reflectively. “Ilkazam versus every other House on Takis. What a delightful situation.”

  “I don’t care. He’s never touching me again.”

  Mark nodded in vigorous concurrence.

  “I understand that. I would never let you go back to him, but Blaise’s ‘touching’ thus far has been quite sufficient to place us in a most contradictory position.”

  Mark didn’t understand. He looked to Tisianne for clarification, but she had the same confused expression that he suspected was on his face. Zabb stared at the mound of the woman’s belly, raised one brow. Mark watched as all the color drained from Tisianne’s face. The ace catapulted out of his chair and tried to grab her hand. She fended him off.

  “No … oh, no.”

  Zabb leaned in for the attack. “Blaise has to legitimize his attack on us. This experiment in alien social engineering is one excuse—House Ilkazam is all that stands between the Tarhiji and the coming of the Ideal. But that abomination you’re carrying is a rallying point. I am keeping a man from his child. I am now the outlaw. It’s a simple, emotional issue easily understood by the mind blind, and easily exploited by the Zal’hma at’ Irg.”

  “You’re going to give the baby to Blaise?” Mark asked. Disbelief sent his voice careening into a higher octave.

  “Ideal, no.” Zabb turned back to Tisianne. His eyes were soft, his tone wheedling. “Come, Tis, you’ve been doing so well. You understood the necessity of removing Shaklan. This is—”

  “My father was already dead! There was no future, just continuance! My baby—”

  “Is defective.”

  “No! There is nothing that puts her beyond genetic norms—”

  “Except her breeding! If we have any hope of rebuilding an alliance, it will be with the most conservative Houses, people terrified of the changes Blaise is wreaking on our world, our culture. If this child lives, you are supporting Blaise’s position. Politically she is a total liability. Do it, Tis, for the House, for the family!”

  “If the survival … of Takis … depended upon … my killing … my baby … well … you’re all dead!”

  It wasn’t sobs that broke the words. It was a horrible choking that cut deeper than tears. Tisianne drove her fists over and over into the mattress, then threw back her head until the tendons were etched in her throat and began ripping at Zabb. The foulest, cruelest epithets were hurled at him. Most hit.

  No one can hurt us like family, was Mark’s inane little thought as he tried to figure out how to take command of the situation.

  There was no warning. Something just snapped. A lunging stride, and Zabb had Tisianne gripped by the throat and had yanked her half out of the hospital bed. Her shrill scream of terror didn’t even slow Zabb.

  He shouted down into her face, “I was going to make this easy. Not now. You’ll birth this monster. I’m going to stand there and watch, and then I’ll take the creature bloody from between your legs and kill it then and there!”

  Trips gripped Zabb’s hands. Exerted pressure between the Takisian’s thumb and forefinger. With a shout of anguish, Zabb released Tisianne. She slumped onto the pillows like a broken bird.

  Maintaining the punishing hold, Mark began backing Zabb toward the door. “Get out of here.… Get out of here now, or I’m going to kill you. I don’t even need my friends to help me do it. And there’s no mind control strong enough to push through the hate.”

  Mark would always wonder what the Takisian saw in his face, for Zabb yanked free, whirled, and plunged through the door.

  Mark’s long legs went scissoring in a storklike, awkward run back to the bed. He gathered Tis into his arms, rocking, stroking, murmuring endearments into her hair. The husky little voice when it emerged from the folds of his coat staggered him with the depth of its calm.

  “Mark, find Jay. Summon Lani, and bring the psi block. We have a great deal of planning to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “SO … ONE OF THEM needs my help. Ironic.”

  Jay shifted uncomfortably. Stared at Hastet’s uncompromising back. Tried to interpret that oh, so careful, oh, so neutral, tone. Decided it wasn’t encouraging. So far this meeting wasn’t going as he’d expected—as he’d promised his fellow conspirators it would go.

  “Tisianne isn’t really one of them. Not anymore. Not after all the years on Earth.”

  Hastet bent, gathered up her pet. Only then did she turn to face Jay, and her expression was bitter. “My life’s already been ruined by them. But at least I had my life. Now you’re asking me to risk that too.”

  “Hastet, you will be safe. No one will ever know that Tisianne was here. Hey, they didn’t know you slipped me into the big hop.”

  “That’s because such an act was … was beyond comprehension. This! You must slip her from the House, you must travel into the city.” Jay was making wild scissoring motions with his arms like a referee trying to call a foul. “Into my house. The Mentatic Intelligence Service could be eavesdropping. And how am I to explain this infant? Burning Sky, I couldn’t birth her—they saw to that, and the neighbors know it too.”

  “Okay, forget Tisianne. Forget about helping him … her. How about the baby? She sure as hell isn’t one of them. Doesn’t she deserve a chance to live? Isn’t it worth
a little risk to give her that chance?”

  “You’ve been with them too long. You’re starting to play mind games.” Her eyes had narrowed to calculating slits. She knew it would hurt him. He tried to ignore it. But damn it, it hurt.

  Stung, he cried, “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it? You are using the life of this infant, hoping I will associate its plight with that of my own dead child. That I will make a blow for freedom.” Her mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “To quote Blaise brant Gisele. Well, it’s a terrible trick, and I won’t be part of it.”

  “Part of what?”

  She’d gone prim. “Keeping a man from his child.”

  She started to walk away, but before she’d traveled two steps, Jay had her by the arm and had swung her back around.

  “You want to hear how that man sired his child? First he transferred your prince’s soul into a female body, and then he raped her. Comprende rape? He sexually assaulted her.” Her face had gone white, the dark eyes like a pair of bruises against her chalky skin. “Over and over again. Blaise is crazy, can’t you understand that? Hell, everybody on this planet is crazy. Zabb’s going to murder a baby for political advantage. Blaise is leading a revolution to get his hands on his grandfather so he can continue to rape her and impregnate her until it kills her. He doesn’t give a shit about the freedom of the Tarhiji, or the custody of this kid. He’s just destroying everything that Tisianne loves in this bizarre vendetta. You say you won’t be part of it—okay, fine! But I’ll be damned if I’ll be part of this shit either.” He whirled and went stomping for the door. “I’ll find somebody to help us.”

  “How will you remove her? The House is heavily guarded.” The soft question froze him faster than a shout.

  “Nobody’s going to see her leave, because she’ll travel here instantaneously.”

  He broke off, frustrated by her expression. Decided it was time for a demonstration. He formed the fingers of his right hand into a gun and leveled on Haupi. With a soft pop the creature vanished from Hastet’s arms and reappeared in Jay’s arms. Where she promptly bit him on the thumb, wriggled free, and vanished like an animated feather boa beneath the cushions of the couch. Cursing, Jay flapped his hand wildly, paused, squeezed blood from the two puncture holes. It still hurt. He flapped it some more. Hastet had backed up against the wall, her hand at her throat.

  “Gods and Ancestors, what are you?”

  “A wild card.”

  “Next time warn me. I hate surprises.” She hugged her elbows, pacing. “So you’ll send the princess by this fascinating mode of travel?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “And once here?”

  “She has the baby. We take the baby and leave.”

  “To where?”

  Haupi made a lightning raid from beneath the sofa and bit down on the toe of Jay’s boot. “Th-the neutral space station,” he stuttered as he shook her free. “We’ll travel to Alaa and use the elevator—whatever the fuck the elevator is—but that’s how Tachy says we gotta do it. Elevator to Alaa station, Alaa station to Bonded station.”

  “Can’t you do.…?” She formed the forefinger of her hand into a gun in imitation of Jay.

  He shook his head. “I was only on the station a short time, and I didn’t pay close attention. I have to really memorize a place before I can pop someone. Otherwise they might end up … well, let’s just say I don’t want to take that risk.”

  “And once we’re there, do we live on air and charity?” Hastet asked.

  “Money’s already been transferred.” Jay held up the credit crystal.

  Hastet flopped down onto the sofa, pulled a pillow into her lap, and hugged it tight. “Your little princess has thought of everything.” There was so much bitterness in the words that Jay remained prudently silent. Hastet was frowning at images only she could see. With a shake of the head she returned to the present. “So all that remains to make this lovely plan a reality is my participation?”

  “That’s about it.” Jay thrust his hands into his pockets.

  “Tell me one more time why I should do this.”

  She was leaning urgently forward, her brown eyes shadowed with pain and an old anger that refused to fade. Jay shook his head.

  “If I’m honest, I can’t think of one damn reason.” The silence seemed to collect in the corners of the room and hang in the shadows thrown by the lamps.

  “Why are you doing it?” Hastet asked.

  “I was hired—” He stopped himself. This had nothing to do with money, or the job he was originally contracted for. It was because … “I want to spit in the eye of the assholes who’d kill an innocent baby. And because Tisianne’s lost so much in his life. If he loses this, I think…” Jay made a helpless gesture.

  “Is this duty or friendship?”

  Jay hesitated. When he began this strange odyssey, he hardly knew Tachyon—Tisianne. In a lot of ways he didn’t like Tisianne. Now—

  “Friendship.”

  Hastet clasped and unclasped her hands several times. Flung aside the pillow. “All right, I will do it.”

  “This is final, last chance. You come now.”

  Zabb glanced to the holostage, where a five-inch-tall figure of Nesfa was fulminating. Then back to the intelligence reports on Vayawand troop movements. “No,” he said, drawing out the word into several syllables. “I think not.”

  “Then we … leaving!” She made it sound like a threat.

  Zabb stifled a laugh. “My, how … terrible. Anything I can do to speed you on your way?”

  “This is not … hearing the last of this … matter.”

  Zabb cut the communication and briefly wondered if he had been too quick to reject Taj’s advice that they offer some sop, make some face-saving gesture to the outraged Viand. But what did mudcrawlers understand of dignity?

  Hey, you’re the one who said there was probably no limit to my power.

  That was theory. This is my child we’re discussing!

  It was a bizarre mode of communication. The closest analogy was mental seasickness. Jay had experienced telepathy—the voice in the head. This was more like telepathyvision. He could actually see all the parties to this confab. Some of the discomfort he attributed to the fact that several of the sisters had thrown up mock telepathic conversations to serve as screens. He couldn’t really hear them, but he was aware of them like an itch he couldn’t reach.

  Meadows and Tisianne were in a garden. Snow was falling. With Mark in his Takisian comic-opera military togs, and Tisianne in a white fur cloak and fur hat, they looked like refugees from between the covers of War and Peace. Meadows looked really stupid, but to be fair, Jay had never seen the ace wear anything that actually suited that gangling form. Then there was Tisianne. It had been several days since Jay had seen the alien, and he was stunned at how big she’d gotten. He wondered if they were going to have time to pull off this little caper. There was telepathic reassurance from one of the sisters. He groped for a name, gave up. He couldn’t keep them straight.

  Look, I really know the emergency room of the clinic. We send the kid, Cody will know what to do.

  What? Do we pin a note on her? Dear Cody, this is my baby. Be home soon, love Tach? This discussion is closed. We are not going to experiment with Illyana. We stick with the original plan.

  So Hastet gets to be in danger. Great.

  She’ll have you, sent back Tisianne.

  She should be honored by the trust, averred one of the sisters. Jay was glad Hastet wasn’t around to hear that.

  Jay sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. Okay, but a question—how do I pull off my end of the caper? It was like tasting a question mark. No words, just the emotion. Jay explained to the puzzled sisters. I’ve gotta see her to pop her.

  You are seeing her now. That imperious soul he recognized—Roxalana. Cut to Roxalana in her sumptuous quarters. Looking out of her eyes at the image in the mirror as a Tarhiji servant brushed out the long golden hair.


  Jay hung tenaciously onto his tumbling sense of place. See her in all her burgeoning, fecund, fertile flesh. The flash of irritation like a punch in the nose Jay correctly identified as Tisianne.

  Cut to Tisianne. Didn’t most of your practice consist of sleazy little divorce and custody cases? Tisianne asked, oh, so sweetly. I should think skulking in bushes should be second nature by now.

  Back to Roxalana. Tis, don’t squabble. This is a real problem, and we must address it.

  For a long time Jay sensed brows wrinkling. For a long time they evaluated the multiplicity of means of ingress to Rarrana. Unfortunately it took even longer to count all the guards. Another long, dismal stretch of mental constipation. Finally one of the sisters slowly said, He is a little attractive.

  Cut to Cillka. She was more than a little attractive. She was a testicle-warming knockout.

  Bring him in, came the thought from Roxalana.

  I’ve always been a girl who likes toys.

  Their fading laughter held more than a little feminine revenge. None more so than Tisianne’s. Jay wondered if it was too late to back out.

  He extended the epispray to her. Tisianne just looked at it. Mark’s wide eyes got wider with confusion. How to explain to him? How to say, I’m scared. I don’t want to go through this. I have to go through this. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want you with me. I want it all to be … different.

  The barrel of the epispray was cold against her fingertips. Inside enough horomone to induce labor. Tisianne laid her free hand against her stomach, sought and touched the reassuring love flowing off Illyana. In the past week the baby’s movements had virtually ceased. From the changes in her borrowed body, and the clinical experience of monitoring some five hundred pregnancies at the Jokertown Clinic, Tisianne knew that the baby’s head had slipped down into the birth canal. So whether she did it now, or did it later, Illyana’s debut could not be denied. She was coming, and only Tis’s actions this day could assure her a chance at life.

  I love you, baby. Don’t hurt me too badly.

  She depressed the keypad. Raised her eyes to meet Mark’s. Wondered if she looked as terrified as he did. Ideal knew she felt it.