Diverse Similarity

by Sharon Rose

  “No,” Hrndl said, standing. “It’s time I was leaving anyway.”

  Kena touched the comm control again to answer Dhgnr. “That, I do.” She pushed another button, and the door slid open.

  Hrndl spoke as he entered. “I was just about to leave. Did you want to talk with me or merely verify my whereabouts?”

  Dhgnr regarded her for a moment. “Is it well with you?”

  “It is.” She skirted around him and left.

  He watched her walk out and then turned his gaze on Kena.

  She returned the look, sensing his tension. What could she say to him? She’d never know if she didn’t at least start a dialog. “Would you like to sit down?” she asked, gesturing to the chair Hrndl had vacated.

  In the hallway, Hrndl glanced from side to side. Neither Frdn nor Rnl waited there. She released her tight shoulders. To evade them, she chose a convoluted route through the least frequented hallways and finally arrived in med section.

  Metchell sat at his table. He glanced up from his computer, then locked his gaze on her and straightened.

  “I require your assistance,” Hrndl blurted out.

  “In what way?” His voice was so calm in contrast to hers.

  “I want you to remove my active ovary.”

  Metchell remained silent, his expression grave. He was going to be difficult. As if things weren’t bad enough already, now she would have to argue for her rights.

  Metchell finally spoke. “Come with me.” He stood and led her into a private room.

  Metchell strode past a sofa and some chairs, arranged for conversation, and stopped at a console near a synthesizer. At his touch, the décor changed from the bland coloring considered acceptable to all races. Yellow, beige, and green swept over every surface, and the lighting took on a golden glow. The room’s low cabinets acquired Grfdn carvings, featuring their traditional, right-angled motif.

  “How cozy,” Hrndl said. “It makes me feel right at home.”

  “Sit down, Hrndl,” Metchell said as he took a chair, “and remember that sarcasm is wasted on me. Before we go any further, I want to make sure you understand what you’re asking me to do. Are you aware that ovaries cannot be regenerated?”

  “I am.”

  “Each of your ovaries has its own four-year cycle. The remaining ovary will not produce more frequently because the other is gone. You will be limited to reproducing once every four years. If that ovary should fail for some reason, you will be sterile. Do you understand this?”

  Hrndl fidgeted. “I know my own reproductive system. You do not need to explain it to me. I have a right to request this procedure. It is not your prerogative to make the decision for me.”

  “It is my job to heal, not to harm. I will not perform an optional, destructive procedure without—”

  Hrndl’s control evaporated. “It is not optional. I will not be condemned to a lifetime with either Rnl or Frdn. I would rather have my children far apart or not at all, than to be forced into mating with a man I despise.”

  Metchell held his silence.

  Had she done more harm than good? She uncurled her fists and laid her hands in her lap, trying to calm herself.

  After a moment, Metchell asked, “How much longer do you think it will be until you complete ovulation?”

  “I don’t know, but it must be soon.”

  Metchell opened a cabinet beside his chair and said, “I want to analyze a blood sample to determine how soon.”

  “Pointless. Nothing will change. I want to get this over with, now.”

  Metchell continued his preparations, then leaned forward and held out his hand, palm up. “Your wrist, please.” Kind, gentle, and immoveable.

  Hrndl reluctantly laid her wrist in his hand.

  He drew the sample in silence and deposited it in a tube of solution. The simple test would yield results almost immediately. She even knew how to read it. To emphasize her disinterest, she stared at the opposite wall.

  After a moment, Metchell said, “You have at least two more days, probably three. How long have you been considering this?”

  Hrndl shrugged. “A few days, I suppose.”

  “Have you talked with anyone else about it?”

  “No.”

  “I realize it’s awkward for you, since there are no other Grfdn females with us. Would it be possible for you to talk with Kena about this?”

  Hrndl had longed to do so several times. She framed her answer carefully. “Kena has been very supportive, and there are many subjects on which we converse. However, she does not understand either Grfdn mating or female coordination during that time.”

  “Then, would it be possible to discuss this with Dhgnr?”

  Her chest tightened, slowing her breath, but she couldn’t blame Metchell for not realizing how painful his question was. She’d bound and gagged her feelings with the rigid discipline of Grfdn obligation. She was certain even Dhgnr himself didn’t know how she felt. Her commitment to Kena would not be broken.

  “Dhgnr understands what form of coordination I need from him,” she said. “He will not disagree with my decision.”

  Metchell opened his lips to speak, then closed them when the urgent comm tone sounded from his computer. He read the message and stood. “I’m sorry, Hrndl. I need to go.”

  She spoke quickly, lest he tell her to leave. “I understand. I’ll await your return.”

  “I’d prefer that you go to your quarters and rest. However, I don’t suppose Rnl or Frdn would have the sense to leave you alone.”

  “I assure you, they have no sense at all!”

  “You may use this room as long as you like,” he said as he strode to the door. “Make yourself comfortable and relax.”

  Meanwhile, Kena sat across the table from Dhgnr. His eyes, dark brown and streaked with taupe, stared into hers. His lips parted, but no words made it past them.

  “Taboos are a rather interesting concept,” Kena said. “They can protect much needed privacy, but they can also conceal much needed information.”

  “Do you think Hrndl will be pleased with either of us if I break our taboo?”

  “Perhaps not, but pleasing her isn’t my greatest concern. I fear my ignorance of her needs will harm her. Are you willing to risk her harm in order to maintain a taboo?”

  He looked away, his small mouth compressing.

  Kena tried again. “Hrndl once mentioned a type of social coordination with indirect benefits. The concept is not unfamiliar to Humans. I’m willing to coordinate in such a way—if only I knew what to do.”

  “She needs to be encouraged to choose her mate,” Dhgnr said. “Soon! Has she given you any indication of whom she prefers?”

  Kena sighed and leaned back. “She complains about Frdn slightly less than she complains about Rnl. Hard to call that a preference, unless it’s normal for Grfdn females to dislike their mates. Is it?”

  Dhgnr’s nostrils pinched. “No.”

  There it was again—that strange surge in his emfrel. She gave him a moment, but he said nothing more.

  “Dhgnr, is there something a coordinating female would do other than simply being present?”

  “They, uh, may point out flaws or advantages of suitors, particularly if they think the mating female is overlooking something with far-reaching implications.” He repositioned himself as though the chair were a foreign thing. “They sometimes arrange for her to have private time with a suitor she favors—or whom they think she ought to favor. I do not see how you can do these things for her, for you do not know what is normal in Grfdn relationships.”

  Kena stared at her hands. What could she actually do? After a moment, she said, “Well, there are four Grfdn for her to choose from.”

  “Four?” His eyes opened wide. Good—she had his attention.

  “Krdn, of course, she would far rather kill than mate with. Rnl?” Kena shuddered. “Oh, that choice would be hard to endure. There’s Frdn. He seems so—unsure of himself.”

  “He is
younger than Hrndl,” Dhgnr said, sounding almost breathless in his hurry to speak. “He will likely improve with maturity.”

  That tone would convince no one. “Of course, there is one other Grfdn. One who—sometimes—seems to have Hrndl’s best interests in mind.”

  “Sometimes?”

  Ah, a flash of anger with that. “She has one need that you seem reluctant to meet. If you really are unwilling, this would, of course, exclude you. But I can never quite tell if you actually are as disinterested as you…portray.”

  He hardly seemed to breathe. “There is…considerably more to this than you are aware of.”

  “Not surprising.” She fixed a pointed gaze on him. “There is a taboo hiding what I need to know.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not the taboo. Hrndl needs my coordination in another matter.”

  Kena blinked. “You lost me. What other matter?”

  “I, uh, I cannot tell you.”

  Kena placed her fists side by side on the edge of the table and leaned over them. Dhgnr leaned away from her. “I am doing the best I can, groping around in the dark, risking the possibility of saying the wrong thing, while you say nothing. Do you care enough about Hrndl to take a little risk yourself? Such as being forthright?”

  The muscles of his forehead worked. “Hrndl still needs to complete her coordination with you.”

  What? Kena shook her head and raised her brows. “What coordination?”

  “From when Frethan was killed.”

  Kena extended her hands, fingers spread. “What is incomplete?”

  “Krdn must be charged before the Grfdn Judgment Council,” Dhgnr said. “Hrndl intends to bring that charge. Under the circumstances, she will fail unless she has the support of her khn. If she has recently chosen me as mate, the Council will not consider my contribution.”

  Kena knit her brow as she thought through this. “Why not?”

  The corners of Dhgnr’s eyes tilted upward in spite of his tension. “Males have a tendency to do anything a mating female requests. I wouldn’t even be permitted to speak before the Council.”

  “That, I can understand.” Kena smirked. “I could name two males who have clearly thrown wisdom to the winds.”

  Dhgnr’s brow shifted. “Thrown wisdom to the winds? A Grfdn would use the phrase cast their minds to the currents.”

  “Rather surprising how many similar expressions our races have,” Kena said, absently tapping her fingers on the table. After a moment, she asked, “Must it be Hrndl who brings the charge against Krdn?”

  “In most cases,” he said, “only the injured party may bring a charge. In the case of death, the person who was most closely involved in the incident must bring it. Since Hrndl was actively coordinating with you, she has the greatest chance of successfully charging him.”

  Kena’s eyebrows drew together. “Let me be sure I understand this. Hrndl was coordinating with me, but I was the only one in contact with Frethan. Didn’t you just say the case would be stronger if I bring the charge instead of Hrndl?”

  Dhgnr tensed again. “You are not obligated by Grfdn law.”

  “But I can bring a charge before your Council if I choose to, can I not?”

  “You must not consider such a thing.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “The, uh—are you sure you want to talk about this?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “The possibility of a relapse,” he said, watching her closely.

  “I haven’t had relapses—well, not after the first few days, that is.”

  “Kena, no one speaks of it here. Don’t you realize, if you go before the Council, you must give a detailed account of the actual event? Krdn will give his own account.”

  Kena grew quiet, bringing her hands together and interlacing her fingers. They tightened as her eyebrows bunched together.

  Dhgnr grabbed his computer from his belt and tapped out a rapid message.

  “He will say there is no proof…” Kena broke off, drew an audible breath, and swallowed hard. “Is the lack of direct proof why Hrndl will fail if you cannot also speak before the Council?”

  “Kena, I’ve sent for Metchell. Turn your thoughts away from this.”

  “When you have answered my question, I will do so.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Now turn your thoughts away.”

  Kena leaned back in her chair, her eyes almost closed. “Turn the audio level up, would you, please?”

  Dhgnr reached for the console. The stream and woodland sounds grew louder.

  Kena began her relaxation technique, shifting her awareness to the light that dwelled within. The soft whoosh of the door ended it.

  Metchell entered. “What’s wrong?” he asked, setting his med kit on the table.

  “Nothing,” Kena said, her voice the essence of peace. “I asked Dhgnr questions pertaining to Krdn and Frethan, which he thought might cause a relapse. But, as you see, it didn’t.” She sat up straighter and rested her hands on the table. “However, I’m glad you’re here. I want to record my memory of being linked with Frethan. Since that could prompt a relapse, I’d like you nearby.”

  Metchell’s mouth dropped open. It took him a moment to respond. “You mean—record the actual memory, not just the recall patterns?”

  “The actual memory.”

  Metchell’s mouth still gaped. He swung his gaze around to Dhgnr. “Did you ask her for this?”

  “I would never make such a suggestion.”

  Kena spoke in a firm but calm voice. “I have already told you I was asking the questions. This is my idea.”

  “Well, it’s not a good one,” Metchell said. “Do you want to have a relapse?”

  “No,” Kena said. “Nor do I want to have several relapses. But that is the risk I face.”

  Her words made no impact on Metchell’s expression.

  “What disturbs me—be it ever so irrational—is the question of whether Frethan was still alive when the hull breached. With a permanent record of my memory, that question will be indisputably resolved. I need never again fear that a chance comment will leave me writhing on the floor, gasping for breath. Not a pleasant experience, that. Even if the vacuum stealing my air is only a phantom of memory.”

  Metchell sighed as understanding registered on his face. “Do you realize this will feel very much like you are actually experiencing it again?”

  “Of course.” She couldn’t avoid the way strain pulled at her lips. “That’s why I want you with me. I don’t expect to enjoy this, but I really do believe it’s worth it.”

  Metchell drew a breath and let it out. “If you’re absolutely certain…”

  “I am certain, Metchell.”

  “I will help you, then. We can do it here, but there are a couple things I must take care of first. Until I’m ready, I don’t want you thinking about this. Go lie down and focus entirely on your relaxation technique. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  Dhgnr stood to leave, and Kena went to her sleeping room.

  As Kena laid her computer on her dresser, Metchell murmured, “What a mission! This is the third time I’ve been asked to hurt someone in order to help them.”

  Dhgnr’s steps halted, pulling Kena’s attention back to the men. He stared at Metchell.

  “I left Hrndl in a private consultation room in med section,” Metchell said, keeping his voice down. “It’s the first door on the right. Will you go tell her I’ll be detained for quite a while?”

  Dhgnr frowned. “Is she all right?”

  “Physically, she’s fine, but she’s considering a difficult decision.”

  Kena’s eyebrows bunched. Should she go to Hrndl? Dhgnr’s words returned to her, and a smile touched her lips. No, she would encourage a little private time for Hrndl and the man she ought to favor.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hrndl startled at Dhgnr’s voice on the comm system.

  “Please pardon the intrusion, Hrndl. May I come in?”

  She j
umped up from the couch and smoothed her hair before pressing the door control. She straightened as it slid open.

  Dhgnr took a couple steps into the room, but held silence.

  “Did Metchell tell you to come and dissuade me?” she demanded.

  “No.” How very calm he held his voice. “He asked me to tell you he would be delayed. He did say you were considering a difficult decision, but nothing more than that.”

  “Not considering, really. I’ve already decided.” Hrndl tried to ease her voice, as though this were something she would normally discuss. “I assume you know what I mean. It’s not hard to figure out. You also know that I, alone, have the right to make this decision. Metchell seems to think otherwise. I may need to ask you to support my rights.”

  He held silence again.

  “Well?”

  “I’m just trying to envision how I’ll get through such a conversation with Metchell.”

  She understood what he meant. All too well. She swallowed and shifted. “He is direct—not shy of using the actual words or explaining ramifications.”

  Dhgnr had the courtesy to avert his gaze. “That…must have been unpleasant for you. And frustrating, too, that you have no female for support. I would prefer to—”

  “Oh, stop! This only makes it worse. Nothing will change.”

  Silence stretched. Her body vibrated like a hammered chime. She let a slow breath out to still herself.

  “The situation is changing, right now,” Dhgnr said, holding to a dispassionate tone. “You need to hear this, so you make your decision with all of the facts. I wish a female were here for you, but I’m the only one available. Will you let me tell you?”

  She could no longer be still. Her feet struck the floor as she took a wide stance. “Fine! But I’d like the quick version.”

  “I’m concerned you will grab at the first conclusion if you don’t hear how this came about.”

  Hrndl uttered a low rumble.

  Dhgnr sighed. “As you wish, then. Kena is recording her memory. This will provide clear proof of the exact time and manner of Frethan’s death.”