Diplomacy Squared

by Sydney Blackburn

  But now, his heart was still sore and he found himself longing for Portya, even as part of him still recoiled at the idea of a baby. His desire to be with Portya, his love for Portya, was greater than his shock and fear. He frowned. Would Portya, could Portya forgive him? Or had his overreaction and subsequent refusal to speak to Portya made it all too late?

  With a mix of hope and fear, Diego called Portya's comm. He cringed when it went directly to messages, but he managed to say he was sorry without breaking down. "I'd like to see you, to explain in person. I-I need to…" He clicked off, unable to voice his fears to a recorder.

  Wilma's words, so easily dismissed in the day, haunted his dreams. In the morning, he sought a meeting with Dr. Filas, and was surprised to get one practically immediately.

  "Thought you ask questions sooner," Filas said, meeting Diego in a small office near the hospital.

  Diego wasn't sure which questions Filas was expecting. "I—how did I make Portya pregnant?"

  "How, I not know. It not possible. I know what happened. But how? Why?" Dr. Filas shook his head in the negative, Human body language.

  "What happened?"

  "Portya's body adjusted to your seminal fluid."

  "You said that was an allergy and he…?" Diego frowned.

  Filas made a sound, not exactly a growl, and said, "His body chemistry adapted. Changed. To become receptive to your seminal fluid."

  "Is that possible?"

  "No. It should not be. I not know how, but it happen. It not a viable pregnancy!"

  "You know that for certain?"

  "Yes!" Dr. Filas looked down. "No. This never happen before."

  Diego frowned, thinking. "If Antho body chemistry can change to increase fertility, then why doesn't it happen between northern and southern Antho?"

  "It not happen! This never happen! Never Antho and Human male. Never change body chemistry. Not enough data!" Filas gestured wildly as he spoke.

  Diego didn't know what to say in the face of the doctor's agitation. Since some response seemed appropriate, he said, "Oh."

  "All this very strange for Portya too. Still, he not terminate." Filas gave him a long, silent stare. "You leave him in difficult social, what word? Circumstance?"

  Diego stared back. How embarrassing was it that he'd never thought about what this might mean for Portya? He surely hadn't expected to conceive. And Diego had promptly abandoned him. After all he'd said, all he promised—would Portya ever be able to trust him again? But for Dr. Filas, he simply nodded. "I need to talk to him."

  FIFTEEN

  "Administrator see you now, Captain Bahaghari." Portya's assistant was one of the smaller Antho, wearing a different style of trouser—less form-fitting than Portya chose to wear, but not the loose fit worn by the dockworkers—and a jacket similar in cut to the one Diego had worn to the fancy party. His hair was shorter than Portya's, styled to accentuate the thick black streak over his left eye. If he knew of the break between them, he exhibited no sign of curiosity that Diego could discern.

  An appointment with the station administrator was the only way Diego could get to see Portya, and he hadn't been certain that would work. Fortunately, as he did so many supply runs for the station, Portya couldn't deny him an appointment, though he could have delegated Diego to someone else.

  Portya sat behind a slender white desk, a piece of furniture barely deserving of the name. It was perhaps thirty centimeters wide and seventy-five high, but it served as an effective barrier between Portya and those he had to deal with. It also provided him with enough surface to sign anything he might need to, and several holographic displays to track all on the station that fell under his care.

  Diego hadn't come there often, and only to collect Portya at the end of the work day for dinner and such. Portya believed very strongly in separating business and pleasure. That hadn't stopped him before from rounding the desk to greet Diego warmly before wrapping up whatever work he had to do. Not this time, though.

  Portya gave Diego one of his inscrutable looks and said, "Why you here?"

  "I-I needed to see you."

  Portya narrowed his golden eyes. "You see me. Go now."

  "I'm sorry, Portya. I—did you, are you still pregnant?"

  "I not talk of this now." His body was stiff and radiated anger. "Is that why you here? To tell me to terminate?"

  "No! I-I'm glad. Can we talk about it later, then? Please?"

  Portya shifted on his chair.

  Diego leaned over the desk. "Please, Portya. I k-know nothing I say will make a difference, but I need to say it. I'll say it here, or find you in the cafeteria, if you won't—"

  "Fine," Portya said. "I will come to your quarters after work."

  Hope soared, however unrealistically. "I'll have dinner."

  "Not necessary."

  Diego held out his hand. "Thank you, Portya."

  Portya hesitantly took the offered hand to shake.

  Knowing he shouldn't, Diego bent over to kiss Portya's fingers. He didn't wait to see Portya's reaction, he spun on his heel and left without a backwards glance. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to do, upon reflection, given how he'd run out on Portya to begin with. Too late now.

  *~*~*

  Portya studied the table Diego had laid out. His body tensed and he looked away, but the only other thing of substance in Diego's quarters was the bed.

  Diego watched Portya struggle, and wished he could read his mind, wished he knew what he was struggling with. He gestured to the table. "You don't have to eat, but you can sit down."

  "No."

  Afraid he might run at any time, Diego grabbed Portya's hands. "I'm sorry. I know that's inadequate. Not enough. If I could beat myself up for hurting you, I would."

  Portya didn't try to pull his hands away and Diego took that as a positive sign.

  "I know I just abandoned you, ignored you. I know I hurt you. I would give anything to take it back."

  Portya stared at him, unwavering golden gaze. "Why you do?"

  "I'm a half-person from a world where almost everyone is a half-person, and I didn't know what that meant until…" Diego paused and took a deep breath. "I had expectations based on, on superficial things. And when I discovered exactly what it meant that you were a whole person, I felt betrayed, like I didn't know who you were, or even who I was. It's stupid, irrational. It doesn't make any sense and I'm sorry."

  "You know now?"

  "I know you're the same person I fell in love with. Who you are hasn't changed, hasn't been false. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. Portya—I love you."

  A visible tremor passed through Portya, and his fingers clenched briefly. "You say that before. I should believe you?"

  Diego's shoulders slumped, and he had to look away from Portya's cold stare. Why should Portya believe him? "I'll do anything, whatever it takes," he said softly, tightening his hold on Portya's hands. He forced himself to loosen his grip so that Portya could easily pull away, if he chose.

  Portya didn't pull away, but he didn't speak either.

  "What will it take?" Diego asked, voice just over a whisper.

  After another long moment, during which Diego wasn't sure he breathed, Portya slowly let go of Diego's hands. "I must consider." He glanced across the room at the table. "We should eat."

  Diego's heart had practically stopped when Portya released him, but now it sped up. "Thank you."

  As they ate, Diego resisted the urge to take Portya's free hand, though he left his own on the table for Portya to take if he wanted. Portya had, he realized, made most of the first moves of their relationship, even while he himself had been thinking he was the aggressive one.

  Portya merely ate, keeping his hands to himself. "You not ask me to terminate?"

  "No, of course not," Diego replied. "I talked to Dr. Filas, though."

  "I know."

  "Are you having morning sickness?" Diego knew little enough about Human pregnancies, but since Human and Antho were both mammals,
there might be similarities. It was Portya throwing up in the morning that led Diego to risking the best thing that had ever happened to him in the first place.

  Portya nodded, additional expression and head movements making it clear he found it unpleasant. "Also strange food desires. Want to eat all that." He pointed with his slender fork at the half-full box of deep-fried courgette.

  Diego couldn't help but grin. He pushed the box towards Portya. "Go ahead."

  "Filas said—"

  "He's been wrong before." Diego wanted to sit beside Portya and feed the crispy vegetable bites to him. "Once in a while, lover. Won't hurt."

  "You expert on pregnancy?" Portya sounded like he was challenging him, but pulled the box over anyway. He lifted it and smelled it appreciatively.

  Diego smiled again. "My sister has two children. I'm as familiar as I can be, without…" he trailed off. Without a wife, he'd been about to say. For the first time, the implications of Portya's pregnancy struck him—Portya was carrying his…well, zygote at this point, he supposed. He was going to be a father. He was making Portya an unwed…alien.

  Portya was staring at him, golden eyes wide, expression blank. "Why you look like that again?"

  Diego covered Portya's free hand. "I'm not going to run away, I promise. I just…I'm still learning to think of things from a whole person perspective. It's a bit overwhelming." Could he marry Portya? Probably not as a legally binding contract, though Earth laws would not have anything on book against such a thing. Not yet. "I won't leave you again." Unless you want me to. He didn't say that out loud, hoping Portya still loved him.

  Portya left his hand under Diego's until he finished eating. "Thank you for food."

  Never in their relationship had they shared a meal in private quarters that hadn't ended in sex. "Must you go?"

  "Diego." Portya looked uncomfortable, fidgeting and twisting his torso as he made his way to the door.

  "Tomorrow. Will you join me at the Pink Pearl to play pool?"

  Portya didn't answer right away. "I will consider. Tell you tomorrow."

  Diego sighed and nodded, letting his head fall forward. He studied the floor, not wanting to watch Portya leave. "Maybe" was less than he wanted from Portya, but it was more than he deserved. He wanted to take Portya in his arms and soothe the hurt away, but how could he do that, when he was the one who had caused it?

  Once more alone, he opened his holo-display. If Portya would forgive him, Diego would never abandon him again. With or without a baby, he had to think about a future for them both. A wedding, if not a legal marriage. If Portya would forgive him. If Portya wanted.

  They couldn't have a future on Beresh or Earth, both of which forbid aliens landing on their world, but not all of Earth's colonies fell under Earth's laws. Even if the space station allowed private citizens to reside on it, it was a sterile place to live for the rest of one's life and not exactly the kind of place he'd want to raise a child. None of Earth's colonies were on worlds with breathable air and plants, but Europa at least had its own lifeforms and ecosystem.

  He couldn't decide anything without even knowing what Portya wanted, but at least he could present possibilities to Portya, should the opportunity arise. He really hoped it would. Perhaps Ambassador Karim would be able to encourage the colonial government on Europa to allow Diego and Portya—and their baby, if the pregnancy defied Filas's expectations—to emigrate.

  SIXTEEN

  Portya went out with him, but he remained standoffish. He didn't touch Diego, or ask for help making his shots. Diego could see Portya struggle against his own desire to do so, and it gave him hope.

  He had never discovered the significance of the meal he'd prepared for Portya, but decided to do it again. There was a small shop on the station's rialto that sold foodstuffs and with Portya's favourite dishes in mind, Diego went shopping. He also managed to talk the Rainbow restaurant into selling him a small cheesecake at an exorbitant price. To his relief, Portya had agreed once more to visit his quarters.

  The door chimed, announcing Portya's arrival. Diego beamed as he thumbed open the door.

  Portya stepped inside and said, "Diego, this not wor—" he stopped mid-word and smelled the air. "What this?"

  Diego took Portya's hand and led him to the table. "I cooked for you," he said, feeling unaccountably shy. "Sit, please."

  Portya studied the table, nose twitching as it confirmed that Diego had noticed such small things. He slowly sat down. "Diego, I need say to you—"

  Diego cut him off again. "There are things I need to say to you before. And please let me speak first. It might make a difference." He poured a Beresh fruit juice for Portya and sat down beside him.

  "I love you, Portya. I know it's hard for you to believe, and you…don't have to. My love is without obligation. I—if this upsets your appetite, I can talk after you eat?"

  Portya picked up the slender, two-pronged fork. "Not waste such good food. You talk."

  "Commander Zaya told me I should discontinue our relationship before I was stupid enough to walk out on you. She said we had no future together, because we could not live on Beresh, nor Earth. We would be separated when our tours of duty on Mikesi finish." Portya paused in eating, and Diego petted his thigh. "Eat, my love."

  "This thought I have, also."

  "Eat," Diego repeated gently. "I didn't think much of it at the time. I couldn't picture a future with you, but I couldn't imagine one without you, either. The thought of—of not being with you was unbearable. It still is."

  Portya put the fork down. "Diego."

  Diego picked up a cube of food in his fingers and held it to Portya's mouth. "Please, my love."

  Slowly, Portya turned his head to steadily stare into Diego's eyes. Diego held the morsel of food to Portya's thin, dark lips. He held his breath as Portya hesitantly opened his mouth, showing the tip of his tongue as he let Diego feed him.

  "Before Humans discovered the Fold equation, we started to colonize our own solar system. Some colonies such as those on Europa are quite independent of Earth."

  Portya continued to watch Diego, accepting food from him. His lips brushed Diego's fingers, sending tingles of hope and desire through Diego.

  "But I'm getting ahead of myself," Diego said, his voice sounding husky to his own ears. "I have a question for you, Portya. Humans, when we fall in love, we have a ceremony—"

  "Antho have ceremony too." Portya caught Diego's wrist and tugged. He kissed Diego's knuckles. He met Diego's eyes and said, "You are asking me to do ceremony?"

  "Yes, I-I'm trying. We stand together in front our gathered friends and family and promise to love, honour, and cherish each other. So long as we both shall live. It's not a thing we do lightly." Diego took a deep breath, held it a few long seconds, and let it out. "Portya, will you marry me? In this ceremony?"

  Did Portya not know how unnerving his long, silent stares were? Or did he know it very well? "We still not can be together on Beresh, or Earth, or—"

  "Europa. An Earth colony. They'll let us live there. I know it would be lonely for you, all those Humans and you the only Antho. But your family can visit. I mean. If you want to, it's a lot to ask of you."

  "We…make a home?"

  Diego nodded. "I haven't arranged anything. I wouldn't without consulting you. I just wanted you to know it was possible. In case—Portya, does any of this sound like something you might…want? With me?"

  "You not leave me again?"

  "Never."

  Portya gave him yet another inscrutable stare. "I will consider."

  SEVENTEEN

  Diego awoke the next morning, which surprised him because he didn't think he'd ever go to sleep. He had expected either a yes or no answer, to be out of his misery or fully into it. This limbo was worse than a straight-out rejection.

  He took a shower in the cylindrical bathroom and grabbed a hot drink with a caffeine-substitute on his way to the tiny office near the docks where he coordinated supply requests. Payment was
a complex matter between the station, UEG, and Starways. Some was held back on the station for ship maintenance, and the crew was paid by Starways for their actual trips through Folded space, but most of their living allowance was provided by Earth's government via the diplomatic corps.

  Minutiae, details, useless facts—anything to distract him.

  At lunch, he grabbed something from the cafeteria and took it to the docks. He was surprised when Wilma sat down with him. "Heard you and the administrator were out the other night."

  Diego offered her a sidelong look. She was wearing casual coveralls and didn't look at all like a person who worked with children. She'd been assigned to the day care for her station duty. "Because I'm female, no doubt," she'd said at the time.

  "I proposed."

  "Are you crazy? He's an alien!"

  Diego glared at her a moment before giving his attention to his lunch.

  "He turned you down?"

  He chewed his food, though her words, to hear them out loud, knotted his stomach and he suddenly wasn't hungry. He swallowed and pushed his food aside. "He's thinking about it." More than I deserve, I guess. "Sorry, Wilma. I'm not good company today."

  Diego pushed to his feet and went down to the airlock where Caravan was docked. It was open, which was somewhat unusual. The hatch was still sealed, part of the security measures they took to ensure no one stole the ship or its shuttles to go to the surface illegally. The maintenance roster showed no work scheduled for the day so he closed the airlock behind him and changed the security codes, leaving a priority message on the info post.

  Only ten more hours left of the day. Such a cheery thought.

  He returned to his office and composed a letter requesting transfer away from the station, to send should Portya reject his proposal. He carefully saved it, double-checking he did not accidentally send it. If Portya accepted his proposal—less likely, but still the option he hoped for—he didn't want that letter to go out.