“You will.” Baergen said, with a glare at Nixer and several others who swam closer, surrounding us.
Finally, Neary moved up in the water, visibly warning them off.
“A husband of my choice. A husband who understands the world I move through. My soul-mate. Someone I know very well.” I looked around the group gathered before me, meeting their eyes, and even the eyes of some of their elders who had probably pushed them into this on the way to the meeting. “Not a stranger. Not a marriage forced on me for political reasons. And as Melafyxia's heir, my duties come before any duties my husband might have to his family and other alliances."
“That means you can't force her to stay out here on the edge of civilization,” Aienna said, laughing, as she swam up to join us.
I glared at her, forget about respect for a matriarch, when I realized that she had probably known this would happen and had kept her nose out of the uncomfortable dance of words and innuendos for the last half hour.
“Soul-mates,” Neary said, shaking his head. “We haven't heard that idea in years, on the coast. What do you folk think of it?"
“Fixation.” Aienna nodded. “It is a high ideal. Some of us are blessed with it. Fixation comes as Fi'in wills it, and not because hotbloods try to force it.” Several of the young men started to protest, their faces showing either guilt or anger, their pride hurt. She glared them into silence, showing her authority in this region and the respect even idiots held for her. “I knew you were clever, Melafyxia's heir. I knew you were young, too, but how could your guardians send you out here unless they thought you were agile enough to escape the traps set by fools?"
“A little warning and some help would have been appreciated,” I grumbled. She just nodded and smiled, and I knew she had been testing me.
Fortunately, at that point my clumsy suitors realized they weren't going to get what they wanted and they let themselves be dispersed, so I could get back to business with the elders. I could have been insulted when none of them resisted or showed much resentment that their ploy to capture the foreigner as a bride had been short-circuited. Mostly I felt relief, and some resentment that I couldn't seem to go anywhere without someone trying to decide my future and my mate for me.
What was the use of being the heir of a legendary figure if it didn't grant me some perks and some immunity from the usual problems Hoveni girls faced?
The rest of the meeting went well. I wondered if the elders took me just a little more seriously because I had handled the hormonally challenged young men without panicking or getting nasty. Everywhere I went, I supposed, there would be a test of some kind. I had to win acceptance for myself, so that those Uncle sent later would be respected and accepted. Until the Hoveni were reunited as a nation, this would happen again and again.
I had never thought of myself as a refugee, but there in the green-blue light of the reef, I realized it was true. We had been living in deception and hiding for generations. We were refugees, even if we had our own homes and jobs and respected places in society. Gemar had belonged to the Hoveni before Humans came to colonize our world, before the Set'ri and the Downfall Wars, before the Conclave and Commonwealth. Yet we were the foreigners on the world that had belonged to our ancestors.
That gave me an idea for a sub-theme running through the next season, and my mind was so full of it that I didn't pay attention when I said good-bye to Neary, shifted back to Human form, stepped onto the beach and headed for the hotel.
“You know,” Garan said, coming out of the shadows of the trees surrounding the hotel, “I have some friends at the Commonwealth Upper University who would gladly spend the next thirty years studying you, trying to figure out how you do that."
He carried one of those sleek, dangerous-looking gadgets created by the Scout Corps that could record sound and images, analyze chemical and mineral composition and do medical diagnostics, all without emitting light or sound or energy a sensitive, alert Hoveni could sense. That was no excuse, however, for me being caught shifting my shape.
Garan just stood there, wearing the same dark clothes he had worn to dinner nine hours before, holding his gizmo and waiting for my response. He didn't smile, didn't show any fear or revulsion, and didn't show any anger, either. That last worried me. He should have been furious with me for sneaking out of the hotel, going anywhere without telling him.
He should have been angry with me for not confiding in him. The Scout Corps had sent his team to Gemar to help protect any Hoveni remnants from the Gen'gineers and possible Set'ri. We knew that. We believed them. We trusted them. But we hadn't confided in them.
I could have asked a lot of questions, but they all would have been stupid ones. Was I in trouble? Was he angry with me, under that calm expression? Had I made some mistakes when I went out that evening? Yes, to all those questions. I knew better than to ask. And to be honest, I was afraid of setting off an explosion. There was something about Garan that told me he had to be pushed pretty far to get him to lose control, and woe to the idiot who pushed him that far. I didn't want to be an idiot.
“Are you going to send them that?” I finally asked, when he just stood there, waiting for me to make the first move. I pointed at his scanner. It was a compact, flat box with rounded edges, about twice the size of a standard reading screen. It was too bulky to attach to his belt like most of the micro-miniaturized Scout equipment, but it fit very neatly into that shoulder harness he carried everywhere.
“That depends on what you folk are up to and how much information you're willing to share. Have we been burning our jets for nothing since we got here?” He took a step back and gestured for me to head on toward the hotel's back entrance.
That question revealed a lot to me. It never occurred to me that Scouts would resent wasted time and effort more than being kept in the dark.
“No. The Set'ri menace is very real, and so are the Gen'gineers. We spend just as much time and effort watching out for them as we do hunting for our scattered people.” I adjusted my throat to sonic level and warned Regina in a few terse sentences about what had happened. Caught. Safe. Friendly but angry. Bringing Garan to our room. Be ready for a long night. I knew she was listening, and wouldn't go to bed until I was safely tucked up in mine. She didn't respond. How could anyone respond to that?
“You won't be needing me, then?” Neary said, stepping out of the darkness about ten meters to the right of us. When I left him, he had been far to my left. I couldn't keep from grinning in response to his appearance, and his frown that deepened when Garan didn't look at all surprised.
“You sensed him, too?” I asked, pointing at the scanner box.
“Leaper technology. Everything they do is geared toward self-defense and avoiding trouble before it starts.” Garan offered us a thin little smile and jerked his chin toward the balcony of the suite Regina and I shared. “Can we take this meeting somewhere more private? How many people in your team are Hoveni?"
“Just Regina and me, besides all the people on the ship.” I turned back to Neary. “He's going to lecture us on not trusting our allies and I'll probably lecture him on centuries of hiding from the death squad. Do you want to sit in on that?"
Neary gave me his cocky grin, flipped a salute with two fingers, and strode back to the water. He shifted fully to his skimmerfish form, balanced precariously on his tail for two seconds, before flipping and diving without a sound into the surf. The show-off.
Garan shook his head and offered a low whistle. “With allies like that...” He grinned at me, looking shockingly like his father for a few seconds. “With friends like that, who needs enemies?"
“Neary shocked me the first time he showed up, too. I think he likes his aquatic shapes better than his normal shape."
“What is the normal shape?” he asked, as he hurried ahead to open the door for me.
“Human."
“How do you know?"
“We're born in Human shape. Our mothers can't shift shape after the first trimester of pre
gnancy. And we can only interbreed with Humans, never with animals. So, in my mind, that all adds up to us being Humanoid. All the rest is extra."
“Did you ever think maybe you're a product of Set'ri tampering?” He walked swiftly and knew how to pitch his voice so no one could hear us as we walked down the short hallway and up the stairwell to my suite. “Back before the Downfall, before they had that killing split in dogma, there were a lot of slave races. Wrinkleship pilots, Khybors, others. Some were the results of accidents during research, others were mutations that were viable and useful. Maybe the Set'ri originally started out by trying to create some slave races, instead of organizing themselves to wipe out impure bloodlines. Maybe your ancestors were a slave race that they couldn't control, so they set about to destroy you before your ancestors took revenge on them."
“I'm sure someone has worried about that. The fact that we're viable and we can interbreed with ordinary Humans, just like Spacers and Leapers, that means we're full Humans, not mutants. Not something to be afraid of."
Then we were at our suite and I had other things on my mind. Like, how much to tell Garan, and how to determine how much he had guessed, and how far we could trust him.
I admit, the thought of sending a message through our network and arranging for nasty accidents for every Scout on Gemar did cross my mind. Besides such an action immediately bringing the entire Scout Corps down on our heads to investigate, there was the fact that we Hoveni are trained from the cradle for peaceable living. We'd rather run and hide than fight. Violence is only acceptable as a last resort, to prevent capture and death.
And besides, I liked Garan. Anyone who could watch me come up from the water, finishing my shift to Human, and not react with revulsion or childish, loud fascination, was someone who might just turn out to be a useful ally.
Regina scolded me, in front of Garan, for being so careless. That alone showed me she wasn't nearly as upset as she pretended to be. If she thought Garan was trouble, she would have been polite and calm and made all the right noises during our ‘til-dawn conference and trading of information. Then, when he was gone, she would have contacted Uncle and scolded me until my ears rang. If she would have advocated running or some attempt to attack Garan and steal his equipment or even kill him, I couldn't guess.
By breakfast, we had a tentative pact with the Scout Corps and an agreement to share information. Garan even offered to train Hoveni as Scouts and equip them to search all the known worlds, and seek out the last few colony worlds that had been lost during the Downfall and never rediscovered. He could do that, since his father and his uncle had created the Scout Corps.
When we finally called Uncle and told him what had happened, he was shocked, then he laughed, then he admitted he wished he had thought of the same arrangement the moment Gorgi Cole made contact with us.
* * * *
The crowds surrounding the recording team grew until they were a security nightmare. Yet, at the same time, it made things easier for our people to make contact with the lost Hoveni who approached them. The lunatics and mentally damaged went directly to Kel, begging him to lead them to the Hoveni. The true Hoveni recognized the searcher symbols that everyone in the crews wore, and approached them under cover of darkness, with signs to prove they were legitimate.
Kel got lots of press coverage, and Uncle was relieved. How could anyone even try to hurt him with so many witnesses? It was bad for his personal life, and during the three conference calls we had during that tour of recording, Kel complained about being unable to buy a souvenir or go out for a quiet meal without a dozen people recognizing him. But he laughed when he said it. As long as he could laugh, Uncle said we didn't have to worry about him.
I still worried about Kel. In a lot of ways, it was my fault all this was happening to him. If I hadn't seen under his makeup that day at Megavissy Carnival, none of this would be happening to him. Uncle didn't laugh at me or brush off my concerns when I talked to him about it.
“I feel sorry for Kel, too. We're using him. Yes, we're giving him fame and fortune, and when the series folds, he'll be able to move on to other roles because he honestly is a good actor. More than that ... he's a good man, sensitive and honest.” Then he gave me that crooked grin that was a sure sign of trouble coming my way. “Too bad he's not true Hoven. He'd be the perfect match for you, Kendle."
“Oh, please, don't you go playing matchmaker on me, now!” I said it with laughter, but Uncle suddenly went somber on me.
“I swear to you, Kendle, even though we've taken away so much of your freedom, that's one choice that will be solely yours. Your parents were fixated on each other. They were soul-mates. I want you to have that gift. Don't ever let your heritage as Melafyxia's heir force you into a pairing you don't choose with your heart."
That startled me. Not so much that he would worry about such a thing, but the pain in his eyes. I had a sudden idea, then, and I thought maybe Chiara would laugh when I told her about it.
“Are you lonely?"
“Me? Surrounded by people everywhere I go?” He snorted and went back to the pile of office work that he had brought home yet again.
“What about finding a soul-mate for yourself?"
“What woman would have me?"
“True.” I felt a little better when he looked up and glared at me. I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed a moment later. “Actually..."
“Don't you go playing matchmaker on me, either, young lady.” He shook his finger at me and I waited for him to go back to his work before I spoke.
“Chiara's interested."
Uncle went perfectly still and didn't look up at me. That meant he had no idea how to react. His fingers turned white around the stylus he gripped. A very good sign.
“I'm serious. She's interested in you. I think she would have made a move long ago, even before she knew what we were, if she thought she had a chance with you."
Then before Uncle could react, I got up and left the room. I avoided him for the rest of the evening, and I decided maybe it was better not to tell Chiara about that particular conversation.
But I could always hope that a seed had been planted.
* * * *
By the end of our second alpha season, ratings remained consistently high. We ended the season with a cliffhanger of Meruk spending his last few coins to purchase an unreliable, one-man boat to follow a rumor of seapeople between the coast of Romblu and the Archipelago. For the second beta season, we planned to have one continuous stream of stories, each leading into the other, as Meruk explored the Archipelago. The visible story would be the adventure—and more fodder for the Travel Network. The subtext would have a two-pronged attack. First, we would talk about the dangers to Hoveni who stayed too long in animal shape for the sake of safety. The mental and physical damage done, and the fact that Hoveni could not reproduce in animal shape or by mating with other animals. We wanted to emphasize that, in case the Set'ri decided to start their own terror campaign, subtly stirring up fears of Hoveni by pointing out that we were nothing but animals. The second prong of our attack was to explore history. Generally, the history of Gemar, before, during and after the Downfall. But specifically, the history of our planet from the Hoveni point of view.
After all, how many people on Gemar were conscious of the fact that this planet belonged to the Hoveni before any First Civ colonists landed here? Our ancestors weren't high-technology, but neither were they the primitives the Set'ri labeled us. We had culture, artwork, poetry, drama and music. Our villages centered around simple rituals of worship, and our families were matriarchal.
When Humans landed on Gemar, they didn't even know Hoveni existed until they had finished exploring Gadara and spread to Romblu. They were startled, and like most explore-and-conquer civilizations, they considered strangers as potential enemies or slaves, not as allies. When the guardians of the first villages welcomed the invaders, the Humans automatically assumed the Hoveni were ignorant and primitive, simply because my ance
stors welcomed them in peace and not with suspicion and aggression.
Like explorers and colonists everywhere who assumed their superiority, these colonists laid claim to Romblu even though the Hoveni were spread across the continent. And when they tried to enforce their laws and move villages to accommodate the cities and industries they wanted to establish, they learned that Hoveni were the masters of peaceful resistance. My ancestors killed no one, but they learned First Civ technology quickly and made life very uncomfortable for Humans all across the planet. Since they would not let us live on Romblu in peace—out of four continents on our world, why couldn't Humans let us have one?—my ancestors chose not to let the Humans live in peace and comfort, either.
It took two generations of struggle before the Humans realized that despite their technology and science, they couldn't tame or understand Gemar without help. Then they humbled themselves and asked for help and offered peace. The Hoveni were willing to accept peace and partnership. Of course, the Human version of partnership put them in charge, only listening to Hoveni wisdom when all other attempts and options had failed. But they learned slowly, and there was peace.
Until the Set'ri came, with their mission of purifying the Human race. Then, like the Khybors and Wrinkleship Pilots and others who had suffered from tampering with the Human genome, Hoveni were labeled as a danger, as sub-human and non-human, and therefore unworthy of existence.
That was the history we meant to teach Meruk, and through him teach all of Gemar and those planets of the Commonwealth that had picked up Hoven Quest for distribution. And there were more planets coming into the distribution system every quarter.
* * * *
“Kel Brent is one gorgeous hunk of man. Too bad he's Human,” I said with a sigh as I studied the promotional shots spread across my desk. I should have been working on revising a script that was giving the director trouble in pre-production.
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