The Mandala Maneuver

by Christine Pope

  Now, as he sat at his desk the next morning, a crawling sense of foreboding seemed to overtake him, and he found himself staring out the window, watching as the glittery starscape slowly moved past, giving way to the pale glowing shape of the ringed gas giant below, and then shifting once again to a starscape dotted with the slightly larger circles of the planet’s moons. Such a cold, austere view, and one he did not particularly think he would enjoy watching for the next few years. In that moment, his desire for service off-world appeared to him as a peculiar fancy, one he should never have indulged. Now he wished he could be back on Zhoraan, feeling its gentle breezes on his face, smelling the scent of wildflowers and grass and sun-warmed earth.

  But he did not expect to see his home world for some years. It was a sacrifice he had made willingly, so to be regretting it now, simply because things around him were in turmoil, struck him as childish. In time this matter with the Gaians would be sorted out, and he would be free to pursue his connection with Alexa. The taste of her seemed to fill his mouth again, and he pulled in a deep breath. Why in all the galaxy’s worlds was she ignoring him so completely now?

  Perhaps she was discovered, and she is being disciplined somehow. The thought sent another chill over him. He’d believed they were being careful. Would they dismiss her? And if that happened, where would she go?

  Back to me…and then to Zhoraan.

  He dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it had come. Surely he couldn’t expect her to give up everything to go to his home world. And he had his own post here, although he knew his superiors would allow him to return to Zhoraan if it meant a chance at another precious child.

  But if she is relieved of her current post…what will she even have to give up?

  No. He would not allow himself to think such things. Their relationship was so new, so fragile. One push in the wrong direction, and it could shatter into thousands of pieces. He knew she was the one for him, had known from the beginning, and having her share his bed two nights ago only confirmed that. Most likely she was only busy. Perhaps the Council had called her in to give her side of the story. Yes, that had to be it. And of course if she was in chambers with the Council, then she could not be answering her text messages. He would have to be patient, and wait for her to be available.

  In fact, he should be glad that she was getting a chance to provide her own account of what had happened to them on Mandala. It would only corroborate his own report, and show that the Gaians were engaging in highly dubious research, research that should be scrutinized by responsible parties.

  And once she was done with her own account, surely she would be back in contact with him.

  She’d thought this would be easier after getting — well, not exactly a decent night’s sleep, as she’d still tossed and turned even though she was in desperate need of rest — but at least some sleep, and a decent breakfast and a hot shower and all those things that were supposed to make it easier to get through the day. However, now that she’d come to the Council’s chambers alone, prepared to make the speech Melinda Ono had requested of her, Alexa didn’t feel good at all. In fact, she felt terrible.

  What Ms. Ono had said to Ambassador Castillo, Alexa had no idea, but he’d been all smiles this morning, clearly relieved that she’d decided to do the right thing and support her home world and her government. And she thought she should be feeling better about it as well, now that she knew what Lirzhan had really been up to, but she didn’t. Doubt still nagged at her. Melinda Ono could ascribe whatever motivations she wanted to Lirzhan, but she hadn’t been there when he carried her across that underground lake…when he’d kissed her for the first time…when he’d made love to her.

  Alexa jerked her thoughts away from those memories. For one thing, she shouldn’t even be thinking of such matters while sitting here in the Council’s private chambers, decorated in serene shades of blue, and on a much smaller scale than the main audience hall. Besides, she was an idiot if she thought just because Lirzhan had made love to her that his motives were pure. When it came to such things, probably a majority of the time a man’s intentions were anything but pure. Why should a Zhore be any different?

  “Thank you for coming to see us, Ms. Craig,” said Gerhard Stolz, after they’d all formally introduced themselves to her and taken their seats. “Since we did not get to hear your side of things yesterday, and because we are all attempting to determine the best way to move forward on this matter, we thought we should have your input before proceeding any further.”

  “I understand, Your Honor,” Alexa replied. The words hardly sounded as if they were coming out of her mouth. They were cold, clear, clipped. They were not the words of a woman who had spent the night trying to find some justification for what she was about to do, for the betrayal she was about to commit. Or was it even a betrayal? Melinda Ono’s plausible truth-twisting statements had confused things so much that Alexa couldn’t begin to guess who was in the right anymore.

  The Stacian councilmember got up from his seat, looming over her. Since she was sure he had done that for effect, she kept herself from flinching and gazed directly into his hot copper-hued gaze. “Ambassador Craig, the junior ambassador from Zhore has made some fairly sensational claims about what he witnessed on the world known as Mandala. Do your own experiences support these claims?”

  Nothing for it. Chin high, she replied, “No, Your Honor, they do not.”

  The Stacian’s eyes widened, even as the Eridani Lir Danos frowned at her and Gerhard Stolz, the Gaian councilmember, seemed to be fighting to keep a grin from his face.

  The Zhore councilmember said, voice mild, “Please explain.”

  “Well, for one thing, we were separated for some hours. It was during that time that he claims to have seen the equipment and devices that supposedly had been used to pull our ship from subspace. Since I did not personally witness any of these things, I can’t in good faith say that he saw them, or that they even exist.”

  The Eridani councilmember cocked his head to one side and appeared to study her for a few seconds. “Ambassador Craig, you spent a good deal of time in Ambassador Lirzhan’s company, did you not?”

  “Yes,” she replied, attempting to force from her mind the memory of the time she had first seen him, the alien beauty of his face…the sound of his voice…the feel of his arms around her.

  “Would you say that it was an adequate amount of time to form a good opinion of his character?”

  “I’m not quite sure what you mean by ‘good,’” she said. “Are you asking whether I formed an accurate opinion, or whether I found his character to be honorable?”

  “The first,” Lir Danos responded. “For if you do not think your opinion was accurate, then it hardly matters what that opinion was.”

  “At the time he seemed trustworthy enough. Certainly he was very proactive about ensuring our safety, up to and including killing in self-defense.”

  Nelazhar, the Zhore councilmember, stirred at that revelation. “So it was Lirzhan who killed the mercenaries who attacked you at the science station?”

  “Well, two of them,” Alexa admitted. “I — I took care of the third.” There’s a roundabout way of confessing to murder. “At the time, I didn’t quite know why Lirzhan would ignore his people’s customs and take the life of another, but I didn’t think to question it. I was just glad that he’d turned out to be so good at keeping the two of us alive.”

  “‘At the time’?” Gerhard Stolz repeated. “Are you now in possession of new information that clarifies his actions?”

  She hesitated. From the way Melinda Ono had spoken, it was not common knowledge that the Zhore population was in decline, and so Alexa was not terribly eager to mention the subject here in front of the members of the Council. What had passed between her and Lirzhan was one thing; dragging the Zhore home world and its problems into it was another matter altogether.

  “Not new information precisely,” she equivocated. “More that, once I was out of the
situation, I had additional time to evaluate our interactions and realize Lirzhan might not have been acting from the purest of motives.”

  “If Ambassador Lirzhan has been involved in anything dishonorable, I want to know about it,” Nelazhar said, quietly enough, but there was a ring of steel to her smooth tones.

  “No — not that at all, Your Honor,” Alexa replied immediately, and then realized she should have kept her mouth shut. She was here to cast doubts on Lirzhan’s account of what had occurred on Mandala, not to defend him. In that moment, however, she found herself unable to do so. Perhaps it was simply that she worried the Zhoraani councilmember would sense any lie she told, and so the sensible thing would be to say as little as possible.

  No, it was more than that, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

  Nelazhar shifted in her seat, hood cocked to one side. Even though Alexa knew the alien woman couldn’t precisely read her thoughts, she feared she would detect enough to know something was terribly amiss.

  After a long pause, Nelazhar turned to address the three other members of the Council. “Gentlemen, would you mind terribly if I spoke to Ambassador Craig alone for a few minutes?”

  “Yes, I do mind!” protested Gerhard Stolz, while Lir Danos interposed,

  “If you think it will be valuable.”

  “I think it will be very valuable,” Nelazhar replied. She tilted her hood upward in the Stacian councilmember’s direction. “Councilor sen Barthran, it is up to you to cast the deciding vote here. Do I have your permission to speak with Ambassador Craig in private?”

  “Of course you do,” he rumbled.

  No huge surprise there. Of course the Stacian councilmember would do the thing that irritated the Gaian representative the most.

  “Well, then,” the Zhore woman said mildly. “I believe that settles it. I don’t think this should take very long.”

  Lir Danos nodded and rose from his seat, and a few seconds later Gerhard Stolz did the same, although he was clearly displeased at the turn the interview had taken. They exited the room, sen Barthran a pace or two behind them. The door shut, leaving Alexa alone with the Zhoraani councilmember.

  “You are very troubled,” Nelazhar said, once they were alone.

  That was an understatement. Even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good, she replied, “No, really, I’m not.”

  Silence for a few seconds. “I’m surprised Lirzhan did not tell you that it is foolish to lie to a Zhore.”

  “Are you saying I’m lying?” Alexa replied in desperation. Perhaps if she tried to bare-face her way out of this, she might be able to salvage the situation.

  “That is an ugly word, so perhaps we should attempt to avoid it. Rather, you are saying things that you know are not correct, and are conflicted over it. I believe you are saying what you think you should say, rather than what you want to say.” Her tone softened. “It must be difficult for you, to try to protect your home world and your reputation and your career, when the things you should actually say and do are so diametrically opposed to those goals.”

  This was impossible. Alexa wondered what the penalty would be if she just got up and walked out, ran away and didn’t look back. But that was the coward’s solution, and she refused to believe that was her only option.

  “I — ”

  “Do you believe Lirzhan was telling the truth about what he saw on Mandala?”

  Oh, God. Alexa’s fingers twined around one another, twisting as they lay in her lap. No way out of this.

  Except one. The path she should have followed all along. She could not fight against it anymore.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “And you were sent here to try to salvage Gaia’s reputation, to cast doubt on Lirzhan’s assertions about the Consortium’s activities on Mandala, because you were told that to do otherwise would be to jeopardize your career, and indeed the very future of your world.”

  “Yes.” Alexa’s head drooped, and she stared down at her pale hands, at the nails she’d broken on that rough world and filed down to almost nothing once she’d gotten back to civilization. Foolish that she’d be thinking about such a thing at a time like this.

  “Do not be ashamed,” Nelazhar said in her smooth, gentle voice. What was it about the Zhore that gave them such beautiful speaking voices? Was it because their native tongue was so lovely?

  “I should be ashamed,” Alexa replied at once. “I wouldn’t listen to my conscience, even though I knew what I was doing was wrong.”

  “No, the ones who should be ashamed are the ones who manipulated your trust and coerced you into telling such falsehoods in the first place. True, you were trying to protect yourself, but you were also trying to protect your home world. It is difficult to recognize sometimes that the things we wish to protect might not always be worth saving.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t just write off my home world like that,” she said harshly. “No matter what the people who run it might have done.”

  A small sigh escaped the hood. “Loyalty can be a wonderful thing, but not if it is misplaced. You can love your world, love the beautiful things about it, and still recognize that the motivations of those governing it are far from beautiful.”

  That was for damn sure. Everything was about getting ahead, about furthering the Consortium’s place in the galaxy, without stopping to think whether what was good for the Consortium was good for the planets it annexed or the people it exploited. Put that way….

  “I don’t want to be a traitor,” she said, and raised her head to stare directly into Nelazhar’s hood, even though she couldn’t see the alien woman’s face.

  “Another ugly word. And what are you betraying? A government that sees you only for your use, and not for your intrinsic worth as a human being?”

  The ugly words spewed from her lips before she could cut them off. “And what of my use to Lirzhan, or to your own world? Lying to me so I can bear the children your own women can’t?”

  Nelazhar did not flinch. “So they told you that? I cannot lie, Alexa, and so I will tell you yes, fewer and fewer of us are able to conceive, despite our scientists’ best efforts to cure this terrible malady. And it has been discovered that we are able to interbreed with humans, just as the Eridanis have been for many years. But it is still a difficult thing, because unless the human in question is sayara — did Lirzhan explain this to you?”

  All Alexa could manage was a nod.

  “Good. Well, then, unless a human is sayara, it does not matter whether or not the genes are compatible, because the only way life occurs with us is when that bond is present. So, while I cannot say that Lirzhan did not hope to have children with you one day, the only reason he had that hope in the first place is because you were sayara. Because he believes you are the other half to make him whole. There was not — could not be — anything cold-hearted or calculating about it, whatever you might have been told.”

  Oh, how Alexa wished the Zhore were capable of lying, because then she could discount what Nelazhar had just said, could brush it off as simply more convenient words to force her to do what the Zhore wanted. But she knew the alien woman was incapable of such a thing, just as Lirzhan himself was. He loved her, plain and simple, because she was his missing half. Nothing more to it than that…

  …and nothing less.

  “So what am I supposed to do now?” she whispered.

  “As your heart tells you,” Nelazhar replied. With one gloved hand she reached out and touched Alexa’s fingers lightly, but even in that brush of fingertip against fingertip Alexa felt the other woman’s warmth, her sincerity. No unnavigable subtext here, only a desire for Alexa to listen to her instincts this time, instead of the advice of those seeking only to further their own ends.

  “Thank you,” she said simply, and rose from her chair and left the room. She knew what she had to do.

  The other three councilmembers, who had been waiting outside in the main council chambers, turned toward her as soon as she
appeared. In response to their questioning looks, she replied, “Your Honors, my apologies for making you wait. Councilor Nelazhar already has heard my statement, but I would also like to tell you that I am retracting my remarks regarding Ambassador Lirzhan’s statement on Mandala. Everything he told you is the truth. Do with that as you will.”

  And she moved away from them, heading toward the exit, even as Gerhard Stolz began spluttering and Lir Danos stared after her in astonishment, and Councilor sen Barthran began to demand an immediate inquiry into the mining facility on Mandala and the research being carried out there.

  Melinda Ono, Alexa thought as she headed toward the lifts, isn’t going to like this at all.

  After leaving yet another text for Alexa, Lirzhan went back to his apartment. He’d already lingered in the Zhore delegation’s offices for almost an hour past the time he could have left for the day, but there had seemed to be no reason to go anywhere else. Only after Arizhal had closed down his own workstation and gone out, issuing an invitation to join him for dinner in the commissary, an invitation Lirzhan refused, did he finally shut off his computer and exit the suite. The thought of going to his empty apartment was not particularly appealing, but he had no particular wish for company, either.

  Well, anyone’s company save Alexa’s.

  He let himself in and went to the small kitchen, where he stared at the boxed salad left over from the previous day before shutting the door to the refrigeration unit and turning away. At some point he would have to eat, he supposed, although his appetite had certainly deserted him for the moment.

  With a sigh he shrugged out of his robes and draped them over the back of a chair. Here, in the solitude of his own quarters, he had no need of them, and they suddenly felt confining, heavier than they’d ever been before.