She welcomed him with a tremulous smile. “Someone might come.”
He grinned back. “You just did.”
She pushed up with her hips, urging him on. Her hand slipped between them to guide him…then she suddenly went still. Her kisses slowed to a stop. Her grip on his back slackened.
He pulled back to look at her, worried and perplexed. When he saw her face, he went rigid with rage. Now? Really? Now?
He pushed himself off the cot roughly, noting with satisfaction that it sprang back a few inches. He violently shoved his legs into his flight suit and stomped his feet into his boots. He was zipping his flight suit up when he heard her bewildered voice saying, “Alan?”
He called over his shoulder, his voice harsh, “You made your choice.”
He didn’t look back.
Cock blocked by a goddamn fucking squid.
29
Jane’s head fell back onto the cot. She closed her eyes against the tears welling up. The euphoria she’d felt moments before evaporated and was replaced with embarrassment and guilt.
“Qua’dux Jane Holloway?”
She didn’t answer. Her throat was tight. Hot tears slid down into her hair.
“Is something amiss? Are you unwell?” She felt him probing at the surface of her thoughts, but that was all she would allow.
“Qua’dux?”
Jane swallowed thickly. “I need a moment, Ei’Brai. I was in the middle of something important.”
“Of course. I await your leisure.”
She rose up on her elbows and gazed longingly at the open archway, hoping Alan would come back so she could apologize. She knew he wouldn’t though. His animosity for Ei’Brai was already so strong. This would be hard to come back from, if they even could.
When no footsteps echoed down the hall she rose slowly and slipped the sectilian tunic over her head, then rummaged around for a pair of pants to put on underneath. The cold was seeping back in, though she’d been warmed through just moments before. She draped her wet clothes over a couple of wall shelves that jutted out the farthest and mopped up the water she’d tracked in with the towel. Then she sat on the edge of the cot, hugging herself, and gave in briefly to the sobs that couldn’t be contained any longer.
She wiped her face on a towel and crawled under a thin green blanket, curling up into a tight ball to conserve body heat and feel safe. She replayed the moments with Alan over and over again. He had been so tender and sweet. His eyes had been so full of passion. She was shocked by the depth of feeling he’d shown her. Everything else had completely faded away.
Until they were interrupted. She sighed and reopened the link to Ei’Brai, but kept the connection on the surface. “Ei’Brai, I was worried about you. I’ve been trying for days and days to connect to you, but you weren’t there. Are you okay?”
His voice rumbled in her head, and she realized he was keeping his distance from her as well. “I apologize for causing concern. I was preoccupied.” He seemed to be about to say more, but reconsidered and remained silent.
She frowned. “What were you preoccupied about?”
“It is of no importance. Your mood is unusual. Is all well there?”
Jane shook her head. She wouldn’t break Alan’s trust by confiding in Ei’Brai. Ei’Brai didn’t understand these kinds of social constructs. He would only say something to Alan that would make Alan feel betrayed. Nothing good could come of that. No matter how much she’d like to confess what was bothering her—and try to figure out what to do about it—there was no one she could talk to about this aside from Alan himself. Not a single, solitary person. She’d have to figure it out on her own.
“We’re doing well. We’ll be returning to the ship soon. Probably in a day or two. No more than a week. I still have some details to work out.”
“I’m elated.” He sounded excited.
That made her smile a little. “Ei’Brai, we’re going to need to set up a system for communication.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, a signal. Sometimes I will need to be able to finish whatever I’m in the middle of before I answer you. Unless it’s urgent, you should expect to wait. I can’t be available to you one hundred percent of the time.”
“Understood. In future, I shall endeavor to be more patient.”
“Good.”
Ei’Brai sounded hurt, but she had to do it. She was too distracted to work out the details of the system now. She’d think about that later.
It was too little, too late. Alan would never understand why she’d allowed that connection to happen. He wouldn’t be able to imagine the repeated attempts Ei’Brai had made, banging around inside her head—escalating each time, to make contact with her. It had been distracting when she wanted more than anything to focus all her attention on Alan.
She’d only connected long enough to acknowledge Ei’Brai and tell him she would be available later.
It had taken long enough for Alan to notice. Too long.
She was sick about it. Alan thought she’d chosen Ei’Brai over him. She didn’t want him to think that. She just…she’d been worried about Ei’Brai. He’d been disconnected so long. When he’d finally resumed contact she couldn’t simply ignore him. She’d never even gotten a chance to explain.
Alan was a hothead. She’d let him cool off, and hopefully he would eventually listen to reason. Hopefully.
The truth was she had missed Alan while she was gone. Seeing him, touching him, had felt right. Sleeping with him, even if it had gone well, would have complicated things, but she’d finally felt like she could accept that risk. With sectilians aboard the Speroancora, she’d have a better support system. The team would be stronger. She wouldn’t have to bear so much of the burden alone. The rest of her team were getting more adept at speaking Mensententia—and after these few weeks of immersion their skills would likely have grown by leaps and bounds. She could relax a little bit and let her desires have some rein.
Ei’Brai had seemed content to coexist in companionable silence, but now he spoke. “Dr. Jane Holloway, I must submit to you a query of grave importance…to me. And may I please have your true depth of feeling on the topic? You’ve always been nothing less than sincere, but I have a great wish to know…”
Jane frowned. It wasn’t like Ei’Brai to sound so hesitant. “Of course. Go ahead.” She opened herself up and felt the eager surge of his mental tendrils into deeper, more private layers of thought.
After a moment, he said, “Am I—to you—or, rather, do I…work for you or with you?”
She realized that this mental connection didn’t go both ways. He was holding back his own feelings.
“Ei’Brai, you recruited me to be your commanding officer.”
“Yes.”
“You chose me.”
“That is an oversimplification, but yes.”
“You put your trust in me to make decisions for the greater good, even when you disagree with those decisions.”
“Indeed.”
“But I rely on you, too. I need your input. Our survival depends on it. We work together, but sometimes someone has to make a decision quickly. When opinions aren’t unanimous, there would be chaos without a leader. I don’t see you as my employee but as my colleague. Whenever possible I make decisions democratically—you know that.”
For a moment relief flooded her senses. Her emotional turmoil lessened as his feelings colored and superseded her own.
Ei’Brai’s voice was soft to a degree she’d rarely heard from him. “I am gratified.”
“You’re welcome, Ei’Brai.”
“There is another matter…”
“Yes?” She was perplexed by how tentative he seemed.
He spoke in a rush. “You once implored me to refer to you as Jane, your private name, rather than your full name and title, as befitting your station. I refused, foolishly thinking that deference was of utmost import in our nascent association.”
Jane smiled. “I remember.”
&nbs
p; “I would like to revisit that decision.”
Her brows pulled together. His behavior was so strange today. What was going on up there? “I’d be pleased if you called me Jane.”
“And you would call me Brai?” She could almost feel him tremble with anticipation. Brai was his true name—the Ei prefix indicated his status in the sectilian fleet among kuboderan officers. The lowest rank was Do, then came Ei, and finally Kai—the highest rank achievable. He’d rarely spoken of it, but Jane knew he’d longed to become Kai’Brai one day.
“Of course I would, if that’s what you want.”
He sounded pleased. “The matter is settled, then.”
She decided to give it a try. “Brai? I’m worried about you. Are you okay?”
“I am now, Jane.”
He seemed unwilling to open up further. She decided not to press. He’d survived decades of solitude. He was scarred, but also a survivor. “I’ll be back soon. I’ve missed you.”
“I have likewise noted the absence of your close proximity. Rest now, Jane. I clearly perceive your enervation.”
She let out a small huff of breath in amusement. His word choice was always so proper and supercilious, especially in times like these when his feelings or actions weighed heavily on him. She thought it might be a defense mechanism when he was uncomfortable with whatever he wanted to say and that was the only way he could get it out. There were certainly times when he spoke more plainly or directly. Some might find the tendency grating, but as her affection for him grew, she found it endearing, and it actually helped her interpret his foreign emotions a little more easily.
She yawned. Her eyelids felt heavy. He was right. She was exhausted from the journey. “Goodnight, Brai.”
He stayed with her as she fell asleep, instinctively filling her mind with soothing thoughts, and she quickly relaxed into deep sleep with his help.
30
The next morning Jane woke to find that Pledor had called a compound-wide meeting very early. She’d hoped that he would allow her to speak to the potential volunteers, but the assembly was nearly over by the time she got there with Ajaya—and they were turned away at the door.
That worried her. She couldn’t imagine what Pledor could be saying to them that he wouldn’t want her to hear. She hoped he wasn’t going to cause trouble. The good news was that with both a mind master and Ei’Brai—no, Brai—aboard, it would be nearly impossible for him to hide any ulterior motives he might have.
Ajaya led her to a vast, empty cafeteria where Alan and Ron were having a meal by themselves. She helped herself to some greens and savory grain mush and sat down. Alan never looked up at her. He kept his gaze on his food and didn’t speak unless spoken to.
She told them about her visit to the Hator compound and briefed them on what she knew of Jaross and Ryliuk. They talked at length about the new shuttle and what would have to be done to retrofit it with their gear, their power cells, and any maintenance items they should check.
They discussed the possibility of using the space elevator located on the other side of the planet and how they would handle ascent and escape velocity if it was not functional, which seemed probable based on her crew’s reaction to the concept of such a construct.
When they were nearly done, Sten’s people flooded the place and began their morning meal. Conversation had taken a turn toward more general banter as everyone finished up.
Ron asked, “So did you see any domesticated animals on your trip besides the suesupus?”
Jane drew her brows together in thought. “No, actually.”
Ron shook his head. “No pets. That’s weird to me. Everybody needs a shaggy companion.”
Ajaya ventured, “Come to think of it, no one here appears to consume animal protein. It’s all greens and grain and other produce. No eggs or dairy products either. They appear to be vegan. At least here locally.”
Medical Master Schlewan and Tinor sat down with them. Ajaya turned to the older atellan. “Master Schlewan, pardon me if this is awkward. Do the Sectilius ever consume animal flesh, eggs of various birds, or the milk produced by large mammals?”
Master Schlewan looked ruffled. “No-no-no! Whyever would we do such a thing? How barbaric!”
Ron gestured at the rest of the humans. “I guess we’re barbarians,” he said with a laugh.
Schlewan’s ears pressed back farther than Jane had ever seen, and her voice went very soft and low. “Have you been killing and eating animals while you were here?”
Jane leaned in. “Master Schlewan, I assure you we have not. We are omnivores. On Earth, animals are part of our agricultural system. While humans are accustomed to eating protein from meat and animal byproducts like eggs and cow’s milk, we are adaptable. Many humans eat a vegan diet like this.” She indicated the empty tray in front of her.
Schlewan nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, yes. Our distant history was much the same. Then the introduction of the nepatrox happened millennia ago, a terrible setback for our species. The population explosion devastated most mammalian species, large and small, on both worlds, because there was no natural predator to balance it. It was a scourge without end. I’m sure you’ve noted that most wildlife has adapted or survived by adopting niches where the nepatrox cannot reach—burrows and tunnels, deep in the sea, high in the trees. Thousands of species became extinct. The ecosystem shifted dramatically. It changed both planets forever—both our diet and our way of life. This incident is taught to children as a cautionary tale about hubris and lack of foresight.”
Schlewan gestured around her. “Atielle got the worst of it, ultimately, because the environment is less hospitable with far fewer natural resources. Until the plague, trade for goods and luxuries with Sectilia was common. Now, atellans survive on what they can grow. Sectilia is very different. Unimaginably high walls are built at great expense and a substantial percentage of the population is designated to maintain and crew them. It allows for…” She looked thoughtful. “A more normal way of living. I’ve always wondered why the atellans didn’t migrate to Sectilia, but you know what is said of home.” Schlewan returned to her food with gusto.
“We don’t know,” Ajaya said. “Please tell us.”
“Oh-ho! I forget. I’m out of practice with outsiders.” Schlewan spoke around a large mouthful of food. “Home is what one knows. Everywhere else is someplace different. Different, different, different.” She continued eating as though that were explanation enough.
Jane nodded. She thought she understood. The Sectilius were averse to change. “So most atellans are forced to live in small enclaves like this?”
“Indeed-indeed-indeed they are. Here there are fewer natural resources to build walls. Low walls were never enough. Some land is developed for large-scale farming of grains and the nepatrox leave that alone, though cultivation and harvest are both dangerous work. Most of the food is carefully and intensively grown on the greenhouse level, however, as you saw.”
“Every enclave is the same?” Jane asked.
“Oh, yes.”
“How do you get enough protein?” Ajaya asked.
“Most of our crops have been genetically enhanced to produce not only more protein but more essential nutrients in general. Not enough to adversely affect palatability, of course.”
“So you say,” Alan groused. He was still picking at his breakfast. They were the first voluntary words he’d said so far that morning.
Schlewan smiled at him. “I’ve no doubt it may take some getting used to for off-worlders. In my day, I tasted many fine things in my travels to other worlds. Many, many, many fine things.”
Jane dragged her attention from Alan back to Schlewan. “Did you? You lived in a ship community?”
“Yes-yes-yes. I was visiting atellan friends during a resupply mission when the plague hit. I was trapped here as a young woman, cut off from my family on Sectilia. I thought I would spend the rest of my life here. But now you are here, Quasador Dux Jane Holloway—and you are looking for v
olunteers to go with you. I hope you will consider my application.”
“I certainly will,” Jane replied warmly. “I assume I’ll hear from the Gis’dux soon about the other volunteers.”
“I’m afraid there weren’t many,” Schlewan said with a wry look.
Alan slammed his cup of water down. “I don’t care how many applicants there are. If you don’t bring Schlewan, you’re a fool.” He stormed off.
Ron chuckled softly after Alan was out of sight and gestured at Schlewan. “I think he likes you.”
Schlewan looked thoughtful.
Tinor piped up. “I think that he doesn’t like the game the young women are playing.”
“What game is that?” Ajaya asked, her eyes narrowed.
Tinor looked amused. “One girl dared another to feel his reproductive organs to see how they compared in size and shape to male sectilian organs. His reaction amused her and the other girls. It has become a game with points based on the difficulty of access to his genitals.”
“Tinor-Tinor-Tinor,” Schlewan clucked. “This is no way to treat off-world guests.”
“I’ve not participated. Everyone wants to score the points. You are included, Dr. Ron Gibbs. Your level of difficulty is higher because Dr. Ajaya Varma protects you from the girls.”
Ron smiled blandly. “Good to know.”
Ajaya was covering her mouth to smother a laugh.
Jane was horrified that Alan had endured this game. She turned to Tinor. “But what does that have to do with Medical Master Schlewan?”
Tinor grinned. “Master Schlewan is one of very few females he sees every day who isn’t trying to grab his genitalia.”
Ron raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching, and looked like he was about to ask a question.
Jane was afraid the conversation might take a prurient turn, so she jumped in with another question for Schlewan. “You volunteered? Is there anyone else I might know who volunteered too?”
Confluence 2: Remanence Page 17
