Confluence 2: Remanence

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  The battered and dirty shuttle rumbled up behind the carriage and came to a stop. The beasts of burden expected a drink and a meal, Jane was sure. They snorted and stamped and scraped at the mud with their broad heads. She felt badly that they weren’t being cared for as they were accustomed to after pulling the heavy craft so far.

  Jane thought carefully about what had been said and the emphasis Pledor had put on Jaross’s presence. There was clearly a rivalry there. He was angry that she’d brought Jaross with her, but Jane wasn’t sure why. She remembered Jaross’s intimation that Pledor was greedier than the average atellan. There was definitely a rivalry between the two clans, but were they always this intolerant of each other? Surely there was trade between the two enclaves.

  She kept her voice neutral. “Haven’t you been compensated adequately? Do you need us to refresh more of your power cells before we depart?”

  Pledor stepped back and turned away from her. He pulled someone close to him, spoke softly in their ear, and sent them off into the compound. Jane didn’t think that boded well. She turned to see that Jaross and Ryliuk had stepped down from the carriage. Jaross was wearing a poker face. Ryliuk looked chagrined.

  Jaross came to stand beside Jane, wisps that had come loose from her sloppy braid instantly plastered against her face from the driving rain. She raised her arm while simultaneously saying, “Scaluuti, Gistraedor Dux—”

  Pledor interrupted. “What are you doing here, Hator?”

  Jaross did not look perturbed. She answered, “I am joining Qua’dux Jane Holloway and the Speroancora crew.”

  Sten’s gaze grew icier. “And who is this?”

  Ryliuk swept his arm briefly in the sectilian way before answering, “I am Ryliuk, a mind master from the Mebrew compound. I am also joining the Qua’dux.”

  “Mebrew?” Pledor thundered. “That’s six days’ ride from here!”

  Ryliuk dipped his head in agreement. “I left Mebrew the same day I felt the presence of a kuboderan in orbit. The journey was an ordeal. I would do it again. My place is with the terrans.”

  Sten’s eyes narrowed. “You are a renegade. You both are! How many go with you? Who is leading Hator compound now?”

  Jaross said, “I hardly think that’s important. The Qua’dux merely needs to retrieve items from her damaged shuttle, and collect her people, then we’ll perturb you no more.”

  “This is not so simple, Hator.” Pledor shoved a hand at Jaross. “You are colluding with an alien that has broken quarantine protocols. The penalties could be severe. Perhaps I should call the local adjudicator to decide upon these matters.”

  Jaross remained impassive. “Nonsense. The adjudicators lost their power fifty standard years ago. That threat is meaningless.”

  “Is it?” Pledor asked, his thin lips barely moving.

  He looked more hawklike than ever before, Jane thought. Then a rider sidled up behind him, just inside, on a solitary suesupus.

  Sten folded his arms and tilted his head back. He didn’t seem to notice the sheets of water cascading over his face. “I’ll send for Lish.”

  Jaross didn’t take her eyes off him. Her voice remained even. “The Gis’dux of Lish is an old woman. She will laugh at you.”

  “Krik is dead,” Pledor countered.

  Fat drops of water dripped from curled tendrils around Jaross’s face. “If Krik is dead, she was succeeded by someone sensible—someone with far better things to do than to arbitrate such a clear-cut dispute, Sten.”

  Sten’s lip curled. “Why do you wish to attend the human? You would give up your leadership?” Then he snarled, “Or has she transferred command to you?”

  Jaross blinked long and slow, then answered. “I will serve the terran because the Cunabula meant for her people to lead us. Sectilius is naked and exposed. There is nothing we could do to stop the Swarm if it should come now. The terrans—these ships they seek, the technology they contain—could assist us. It may be what we need to bring our people out of this dark time. I will serve this Qua’dux because serving her serves our people. My intent is above reproach. Is yours, Sten?”

  Pledor sobered. Some of the choler evaporated from his gaze. He took a small step back and seemed to be lost in thought.

  Jane stepped between the two of them and appealed to him. “What is it that you want, Gistraedor Dux Pledor Makya Sten?”

  He stiffened. His gaze turned resolute. “There should be equal representation from Sten compound.”

  Jane nodded. “I will agree to that. However, I reserve the right to choose the individual from Sten compound who will join us.”

  Pledor raised his chin. He remained statuesque despite a gust of wind sweeping a drenching wave of rain over them. “You may choose two. I will be one of them.”

  Jaross’s eyes widened and her ears pulled back sharply—the first sign of emotion Jane had seen from her throughout this interchange.

  Rain pummeled Jane so hard it made her balance wobble. She was chilled. Her teeth were starting to chatter. “Equal representation with Hator compound would mean just one individual.”

  Pledor narrowed his eyes. “You would turn down a volunteer, freely offered?”

  Jane didn’t like Sten. She didn’t trust him. She also didn’t doubt that he would make good on his threats if she wouldn’t agree to his terms.

  He could hold her crew hostage along with the shuttle, and she would have little recourse as an outsider. Jaross’s support might not be enough to resolve things quickly. Pledor could easily tie them up for ages—or worse. Jane had no desire to find out what passed for a court system on this broken planet. He’d already threatened her life once. She didn’t want to find out what the inside of a jail cell on Atielle looked like if Pledor had some power over the court that Jaross couldn’t counter.

  There really wasn’t a choice.

  She raised her chin. “I agree to these terms.”

  28

  When the guards finally cut Alan loose, he didn’t waste any time. He bounded down the ramp, stumbling to a halt when he saw Jane at the head of an entourage coming up the other way, Ajaya and Ron on his heels. Jane looked like a drowned rat and mad as hell.

  Proceed with caution…

  His brows drew together. “Hey, you okay, babe?”

  She blinked at him dramatically. “Babe? What is this? 1975?”

  He grimaced. “Sorry. But seriously…is that a functional shuttle?”

  She sighed. “I sure hope so.” She patted his arm as she reached him.

  He turned to match her pace ascending the ramp. He itched to slip an arm around her but he wasn’t about to push it. “What’s up with Sten?”

  She tilted her head a little to indicate the atellans behind her, then shook it wearily. “Let’s talk after I get a warm bath and some dry clothes.”

  “We were having a meal when we saw you’d arrived,” Ajaya said. “Shall we save you a place at the table?”

  Jane considered that. “I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises. You go ahead though. Finish your meal. It can wait until morning, if necessary.”

  Ron smiled. “Glad to have you back safe, QD.”

  When they reached the cafeteria level, Ajaya and Ron peeled off to resume their meal. Jane looked at Alan quizzically.

  “I’m not hungry,” he said, shrugging. He wasn’t, really. And he was so glad to see her, he was reluctant to let her out of his sight again.

  An atellan directed Jane to the guest quarters, handed her some towels, and then withdrew. Alan had been sleeping on a cot in that same room with Ajaya and Ron.

  Four more atellans followed them into the room. He barely noticed them until he realized two of them were as wet as Jane and they were stripping down to their skin. He didn’t mean to look, but he wasn’t expecting them to do that, so he got an eyeful.

  He was having trouble keeping his eyes off the lithe atellan woman as she divested herself of her wet garments. Her body was…well, she looked like a living manga cartoon—an ex
aggerated thin body topped with a cloud of wild light-brown hair. Neither of them seemed to realize that anyone else was there. He noticed Jane’s gray eyes watching him with amusement so he shifted his body away from the atellans and refocused on her.

  He cleared his throat. “So, ah, do you want me to go get you anything? I can try to rummage up some food.”

  The atellan woman swept out the door completely naked, holding towels and dry clothes, presumably heading for the communal bathing area. The dude followed. He was more human in proportion—like a lumberjack on steroids. Tall and buff as shit.

  Alan closed his eyes and physically turned again toward Jane. “Really? Did they just do that?”

  She blew out a breath that verged on a laugh. “Yeah. You haven’t noticed? Their culture doesn’t value privacy like we do. They are very…free with their bodies. This is going to take some getting used to.”

  “Yeah. I guess.” He’d been keeping his distance from the atellans, bathing at odd times so he could be by himself. It seemed prudent considering his ongoing issues with young atellan women. He just felt like everybody wanted a sneak peek at his privates and he wasn’t having that.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Jane. Really looked at her. She had her hands tucked up in her armpits. A puddle of water had formed around her feet. He suddenly felt weird. “Hey, um…you…” He gestured toward the open door. “You want me to leave you alone so you can…ah…”

  She bit her lip and looked unhappy. “I don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know?”

  “If I’m ready to embrace the lack of privacy, you know? Right now.” She gestured toward the door, indicating the atellans who had just passed through it.

  “But you’re cold. Your lips are turning blue, Doc.”

  “I’m freezing!” she cried suddenly.

  “Yeah, well, put on some dry clothes!”

  She looked around, forlorn. “I…”

  He felt like a heel. He was making her uncomfortable. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I’ll just leave.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No! Don’t go. I meant—with them.” She sighed. “I don’t know what I want except to be warm and dry. I’m tired. Don’t go.”

  He stared at her blankly, trying to figure out what she wanted him to do but was unwilling to say. She did want him to stay, though. He liked that. He settled on, “I’ll just turn my back and you can get that stuff off. You look pretty soggy.”

  “Okay.” She sniffed.

  He started to turn.

  “I don’t have any clothes. In the confusion…I don’t know where my flight suit is.”

  “Oh.”

  Her face looked so pale, so strained. She was exhausted from the trip. “I was in the infirmary before I left.”

  “Oh, shit. Ummm.” He wasn’t sure if he could find the infirmary on his own. He looked around the room. He had a spare flight suit, but it would be too big for her. He went over to one of the wall-shelf-drawer thingies and opened it. Jackpot. Tons of green sectilian clothing in there.

  He pulled out item after item. None of them were the right size for her. The skinny stuff would probably fit in the waist, but be too long. The dwarf stuff would fall off of her. He held up something that looked like a dress.

  “That one,” she said. “That will work.”

  “Okay.” He took it over to the cot next to his. It also happened to be unused and farthest from the door, at an angle where she’d be unseen from the hallway through the doorless portal. He laid it out like he’d seen his sisters lay out their clothes for school. “There you go,” he said. I’ll stand watch.”

  It was silly gentlemanly business. He could do that shit.

  She grabbed his arm for a moment as she walked past, squeezing. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “Welcome.”

  He turned his back on her and waited. He felt the corner of his mouth turn up. He’d just earned himself a white hat. He was a good guy.

  “It looks like you got some sun while I was gone,” she commented.

  He fidgeted. He didn’t want to talk about his folly right now, when things were going so well. “Who are the new guys?” he asked.

  “I should have introduced you, I’m sorry,” she said, sounding distracted.

  “No worries. I’d rather meet them with clothes on, anyway.”

  She snorted. After a moment she let out an exasperated sigh. “These knots! They got tighter or something and my fingers are so cold. I can’t seem to—”

  He held his breath. Oh, boy. What…

  “Alan…can you help?”

  He closed his eyes for a second. Be a gentleman. I can be a gentleman. “Sure.” He turned.

  Her head was bowed and her hip thrust forward as she fumbled with a knot. Her fingers were trembling with cold.

  He sat on the edge of the cot and waved her over.

  Jane stepped in close and lifted her hands away from the decorative knots that kept the asymmetrical garment closed.

  He dug his nails into the knot. After working on it a bit he was able to loosen it. He wiped his hands on his pant legs and went for the next one.

  She leaned over him to grab a couple of towels off the bed, close enough that he could smell her. A few cold drops of water fell on him. He didn’t mind.

  She dropped one towel at her feet to soak up the water on the floor and raised her arms over her head, blotting her hair with the other one.

  He shifted, willing his pants not to get any tighter, and focused hard on the knots.

  The building was very still. He heard the two atellans who had come with Jane emerge from the communal bathing area. They spoke softly to each other and disappeared down the hall toward the nearest ramp. Most of the people in the compound would be having a meal now. He’d take Jane up to eat after she was dressed.

  “At least the ship has doors,” she said softly.

  “Yeah.” He didn’t trust himself to say anything else.

  “We’ll have to explain things to them so that they understand. The cultural differences could lead to issues if we don’t communicate well.”

  He cleared his throat. “Sure.”

  He’d gotten the three bottom knots loose. Now he worked on the one just under her breast. His knuckles kept brushing that round part of her. He couldn’t help but notice her nipple straining at the fabric. As he loosened the knot, he looked up. She was staring at him, her lips slightly parted.

  Now his fingers were shaking.

  He wiped his hands on his pants again.

  He reached up for the last knot on her chest. He couldn’t quite reach it. He put his hands on her waist and pushed her back gently, then stood.

  Her eyes were hot on his. That wasn’t his imagination. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his breathing even.

  Her lids flicked down and he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He went back to the final knot. He’d figured out how they worked now, and he had it loose in seconds.

  He stood there, frozen, looking at the ties and the nipple just under his hand. He wanted that nipple in his mouth. He wanted to feel her arch under him while he did it. He wanted to hear her moan. He wanted to watch her climax.

  The front of his flight suit was tenting. There was no hiding that. He didn’t care. She knew how he felt about her. He dragged his attention back to her face.

  Her lips were slightly parted. Her hands came up and covered his, lingering just over her breast.

  Her fingers were icy. He enclosed them in his own and pressed them to his chest to warm them. He lowered his face over hers until he was hovering just above her lips.

  He gave her plenty of time to pull away.

  She didn’t.

  His lips pressed against hers. He tried to be gentle, but her response to him nearly blew the top of his head off. She kissed him back, hungrily. He found himself crushing her to him, demanding deep kisses from her.

  Her arms slipped around him. Her cold, wet clothes pressed into him.


  He cupped the back of her head with his right hand and with the left, he dragged down at the hollow of her throat, pulling at the wet front of the garment to separate the layers. He pulled at the wide flap until it hung loose and flicked the narrower flap aside. Her skin felt cool under his hands. She gasped against his mouth but didn’t stop the kiss.

  It was going to happen this time.

  He slid the tunic from her shoulders and let it fall with a wet slap to the floor. He bent his head over her neck, kissing and nibbling.

  Her breathing was ragged. She moaned. Such a beautiful sound, better than he ever could have imagined—and he’d imagined it a lot.

  She wriggled into him. She felt right against him.

  He felt her hands at the top of his zipper and his heart stopped. She slowly slid it down the length of him, all the way to the bottom. He groaned deep in his throat. Even pressing against her cold skin didn’t slow him down in the slightest.

  And she was warming, quickly.

  He loosened the knot on her drawstring pants and they fell to the floor.

  Her breath was shaky. “We should stop,” she panted. “Someone will see us.”

  “No they won’t,” he growled. He opened his mouth, trailing the tip of his tongue and plenty of kisses over her body as he moved to kneel in front of her.

  She gasped. “Oh, my God…Alan.” Her legs trembled.

  He liked that. His own body was begging for release. He was probably going to blow like an eighteen-year-old boy.

  But she would come first.

  He gazed up at her, watching her response as he worked his magic. Her upper body and face were flushed, eyes closed, gasping for air, and then holding her breath, and then gasping again.

  Her whole body was trembling. She had to be close.

  He kept his left arm wrapped around her, helping her keep her balance. Nothing would ruin this.

  He felt her stiffen. She stifled a cry. Then she was uttering throaty, wordless vocalizations of pleasure.

  She calmed and then shuddered several more times.

  When she stilled he slowly reversed his trail of kisses, then stood and kissed her. She gripped him fiercely. He turned her toward the cot, guiding her down gently. He slipped off his flight suit and boots and crawled on top of her.