TWIN
WITNESS TO BETRAYAL
By
Katherine Padilla
Book
2 of
HEIRS
OF NOVAUN
Published
by Novaun Novels at
Copyright
© 2005
Katherine
Padilla.
This e-book is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.5. This document may be reproduced for personal non-commercial use as long as the text is not altered in any way and the byline and copyright notice are included on every copy.
Twin Witness to Betrayal is a work of fiction. The characters and plots are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To Christina, who, at nine months old, was my model for the baby twins.
CONTENTS
Part
1: DISCOVERY OF A TRAITOR
Chapter 18: A DISHONORABLE
WAR
Epilogue: A FATHER'S
DISAPPROVAL
An instant later, or so it seemed, Deia was
looking in amazement through the shuttle's canopy at the planet of Myke's
thoughts--Novaun. Suddenly she could feel her body again, but she couldn't move
it. She was so numb and drained of energy that she could no longer maintain a
telepathic connection with her companions.
Myke reached for the controls, turned on the engines, and began piloting the craft manually. He reached up to turn on the mouth speaker of his helmet and said, "You three were wonderful! Turn on your helmets and we can talk."
Deia did so, but it took extreme effort, almost
more effort than she cared to exert.
"We just arrived in Novaunian space
territory," Myke continued. "In about two seconds, we'll be
surrounded by Novaunian fighters."
An awful thought occurred to Deia.
"They won't shoot at us will they?"
Myke laughed, a happy, carefree laugh.
"No, Deia, they won't. But they will be perplexed. We're in the heart of
Novaunian space, to them an impossibility. They will wonder how we avoided
detection."
Moments later, as Myke had predicted, Deia
saw several white, bird-shaped fighters bearing Novaunian Fleet markings. She
felt foreign thoughts invade her mind, and although they had no substance of
words, she could feel images and understand.
Earth vessel A-BV472--state your
purpose for entering Novaunian space.
Myke looked as if he wanted to shout with joy, and Deia wondered if the pilot was someone he knew. This is Fleet agent, codename Myke Zarek, returning to base. Please allow me to contact my superior at the Novaunian Interplanetary Intelligence Agency, Shalaun, and he'll clear me through your commanding officer.
Switch to
audio, A-BV472. Your thought transmissions are almost too weak to discern.
Acknowledged. Myke pushed a button on the control panel and began speaking in the Novaunian language.
The image of a white-helmeted pilot with bewildered blue eyes appeared on Myke and Deia's viewing screen. Myke spoke, and the Novaunian pilot spoke, and then the screen went blank.
"Doesn't anyone speak English around here?" Dr. Luciani complained good-naturedly.
"Only us," Paul said uneasily. "I already feel like a foreigner!"
"Don't worry," Myke assured, "you won't feel that way for long. You'll feel right at home in no time."
"Then why do I feel so nervous?" Deia said. "I know we're supposed to have a family here, but I still get the most awful feeling that they won't believe we are who we say we are, or that they will disown us or something."
Myke was amused.
"You say that only because you don't understand Novaun's patriarchal
structure. Believe me, no one gets lost or disowned. It's more likely that your
grandfather will be so thrilled to have you two back that he'll whisk you off
to the Doshyr estate in Menaura and surround the place with soldiers!"
Myke finally made contact with his
headquarters in Shalaun. He communicated with a dignified man, also dressed in
white, with wavy hair the color of honey and jade green eyes. Myke conversed
with this man for at least five minutes before the screen went blank again.
"For a commanding officer and his
peon, you two are awfully chummy," Dr. Luciani declared.
"Perhaps, but Minon Sharad Quautar was
my second father long before he was my C.O. He and my father were stationed
together during the Latanzan War and were the best of friends, and two of his
children, Kevan and Miaundea, are my closest friends. Kevan, in fact, married
my sister Alysia shortly before I went to Earth."
"Oh . . . they're the
ones you talk about sometimes," Deia said. "Only you changed the
names."
Myke nodded. "Myke Zarek never really
lived, so he didn't have a collection of real life experiences to draw on like
Teren Zaurvau. I guess you could say that Myke Zarek's life story was always
Teren Zaurvau's, Earth style!"
"Well, Teren Zaurvau," Paul said
lightly, "tell us what this strange Novaunian word 'minon' means."
"I suppose the closest translation
would be 'brother in humanity.' It isn't as intimate as 'brother'; it's used
kind of like the term 'mister,' but it's more respectful without being as
detached and formal. The word for 'sister in humanity' is 'mineste.'"
Deia squeezed Myke's arm. "So it's all
right if we call you Teren now."
Teren nodded. "Please!"
Dr. Luciani chuckled. "And now that
we're no longer in Star Force, you can call me 'Ton.'"
"Yes, sir!" Teren, Deia, and Paul
chorused, laughing.
*
The sun had just risen on the continent's
eastern coast, as the armed shuttle descended on the planet, escorted by a
squadron of Novaunian fighters. As the shuttle approached Shalaun, Deia saw
that it was a huge, graceful city located on a cape. She was immediately struck
by its elegance and aura of serenity.
The city appeared to be laid out in an
organized manner, the buildings perfect in form and symmetry, architectural
styles that Deia could only describe as classical. All of the sidewalks were
constructed of marble, and many of the buildings and houses were delicately
ornamented with colorful minerals. Between the buildings were courtyards
containing colorful statues and fountains, citrus groves, luxuriant tropical
gardens, and many swimming pools of various sizes and shapes. Rising into the sky
were gold towers that were discharging and receiving aircars from all
directions.
"It's the most beautiful city I've
ever seen," Deia whispered. "It really is a paradise."
Paul was also overcome with wonder at
Shalaun's sublime beauty. "Is every city on Novaun as beautiful as
Shalaun?" he asked Teren.
"All of Novaun is beautiful, but
common opinion is that Talavaura in Amaria is Novaun's most beautiful city. I
imagine we'll see it soon since it's your mother's ancestral home. Her memorial
service will probably be held there."
"Did you hear that, Paul?" Deia
said softly. "She'll have a funeral after all."
The squadron commander began giving Teren
landing instructions. The armed shuttle tilted, did a one hundred-eighty degree
turn, and descended rapidly toward a huge military base. In minutes, it landed.
Deia, Teren, Paul, and Ton quickly removed
their helmets as the canopy lifted and the side of the cabin slid open.
Immediately feeling the Shalaun humidity and summer heat, Paul and Ton rapidly
removed their silver flight suits and walked quickly down the stairs to the
ground, anxious to walk and stretch their stiff muscles.
Deia wasn't in such a hurry, and neither
was Teren. This first moment together on Novaun seemed like a dream. "I
can't believe it." Teren's fingers trembled as they brushed her hair away
from her face.
Deia shook her head. "Neither can
I." Teren touched his lips to hers, drawing her closer. Deia responded
happily.
"Hey, come on, you two!" Paul yelled
up at them. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. It's too hot to
stand out here all day!"
Teren and Deia put their foreheads
together, their arms still entwined. Teren's hair was disheveled and his cheeks
were ruddier then normal, making him all the more handsome. "I guess there
is plenty of time, isn't there?"
"I suppose, but it sure doesn't seem
like it yet, and there's just something wonderful about being able to do this
in public." They kissed again.
Teren and Deia released each other a few
moments later and slipped out of their flight suits.
"Just friends, huh?" Ton teased
once Teren and Deia were on the ground. He gazed seductively at Deia.
"Speaking from friend to friend, I want to know when you're going to kiss
me like that."
"She'd better not." Teren's voice
was angry, but his smile was confident.
Deia laughed, hugging Ton and kissing him
on the cheek. Then she reached for Paul, kissing his cheek and embracing him
vigorously.
A group of men dressed in white Novaunian
Fleet uniforms with short sleeves and standing collars gathered by the shuttle.
Each man was wearing an arelada crystal, held in place on his forehead by a
white band and carved in the shape of the mukaul bird. Most of the men had tiny
arelada triangles embedded in their right temples just below the white bands.
Deia released Paul and slipped her hand
under Teren's arm. Teren suddenly, as if he had received some sort of
subliminal message, turned to face the blond-haired pilot who was watching him
in amusement. "Rayel!" he cried.
Teren and the pilot clasped each other and
kissed each other's cheeks, then held each other's shoulders and gazed at each
other in excitement, their expressions indicating that they were communicating
telepathically.
Teren released the pilot and turned back
toward Deia, whose arm was still around Paul. He smiled and motioned to her.
Deia could feel the images of his thoughts. This is Deia Sheldon. He
nodded at Paul and Ton. And this is her twin brother Paul and Dr. Ton
Luciani.
Teren said to his friends vocally,
"And this is Captain Rayel Sekura, my brother-in-law." Deia, Paul,
and Ton all nodded once and acknowledged the introduction in English.
Rayel turned his head and motioned to one
of the other officers. The second officer and his men quickly surrounded Teren,
Ton, Deia, and Paul and, after taking their four laser scalpels, led them to a
nearby building where visitors and prisoners were checked in.
Once in the building, Teren was asked to
remove his arelada, and he did, requesting that his arelada eye contacts be
placed in a special container of solution and sent immediately to Colonel
Quautar. Then all four of them stood one by one behind a sensor screen to be
checked for hidden weapons and arelada. When nothing was found, they were led
to separate rooms and left for a few moments to remove their Star Force
uniforms for further inspection and to dress in the fatigues that had been
provided.
Once in her dressing room, Deia plopped wearily
down on the white divan and unzipped her boots with slow, heavy fingers. After
pulling her boots off, she leaned her head against the wall for a moment,
contemplating her arrival on Novaun and her and Paul's impending meeting with
members of their extended family. Everything was happening so fast, and she had
never felt more overwhelmed or excited or frightened . . . or
happier.
*
Miaundea Quautar spread auyvalnut butter
sloppily over a thick slice of chilled homemade bread, accidentally dropping
some on her thin silk dressing gown. Ignoring the spill, she quickly lifted the
bread to her lips. In seconds, the oven beeped. She stuffed the remaining bread
into her mouth, quickly opened the oven, and carefully lifted the mug to her
lips. She gulped the tea, burning her tongue and throat, then set the mug in
the sink and leaned for a moment against the white counter, breathing slowly to
calm herself. Funny, even Kavella's zaulyem tea couldn't relax her that
morning.
Only minutes before, her father had given her all of the details of her new assignment, one that promised to be especially fascinating. Teren's story was fascinating enough, what she knew of it, but the stories of his companions had to be equally incredible, and she would be one of the first to learn them since she would be their cultural tutor. Along with her duties as cultural tutor, she would deliver a telepathy vision presentation to the presumed Doshyr twins under the direction of their grandfather Patan.
Patan wanted this necessary presentation to be
given to the twins by someone unrelated to the family and so had asked her
father to appoint one of the Agency's librarians. Since as an anthropologist
Miaundea was also a librarian and since she had already been assigned as the
cultural tutor to the twins and the Earthon doctor, she had been the natural
choice for the task.
The polished white marble floor felt cool
under her feet as she walked quickly through the living room to her bedroom and
its adjoining dressing lounge. She welcomed the coolness, for even at this
early hour of the day, the summer heat was pouring into her apartment through
the opened windows.
From what Miaundea knew about Earth, most
of its citizens were zealously loyal to their Divine Emperor, for they were
proud of their culture and their religion was extremely nationalistic. With
that loyalty and the Divine Emperor's practice of using telepathy to
subliminally bind the minds of his subjects to his, Miaundea marveled that
Teren had been able to persuade three people to help him escape the Star Force
base ship.
Perhaps it wasn't strange that he had
enlisted the help of the Doshyr twins. They had been raised by their mother, so
undoubtedly she had instilled much of the Novaunian ideology in them. Not only
that, but Teren had strong feelings for the girl twin. Certainly love had been
part of her incentive. The Earthon doctor, however, was an entirely different
matter.
Miaundea slipped out of her gown and into a
cream silk dress with jade green pinstripes. The dress's hem fell just below
her knees, its colors were conservative, and it lacked the contoured lines of
the styles from Gudynea she liked so well--nice and respectable. Her father
would be pleased. Surprised, but pleased. She fastened a green cummerbund
around her waist and seated herself at her vanity. She smeared lotion on her
face and touched her cheekbones with rouge, then reached for the dark brown
mascara from Telchon. She smiled mischievously. She couldn't be too
respectable.
As she brushed her hair, she thought again
about Teren. Although she was deeply saddened by the loss of his father, she
couldn't wait to see him. He was one of the most interesting people she knew,
and he and his sister Alysia were her closest friends outside her family. He
and she had been playmates as children and each other's only escorts during
their youth, which had always led both families to believe they would be a
couple permanently. After all, that was the way it had happened with Kevan and
Alysia. Miaundea twisted her hair in the back and placed a long, pearl-studded
comb in it to hold it in place, leaving out a few blond strands to hang in
wisps around her face and neck. She abhorred braids.
She and Teren had known from the beginning
that their relationship would be permanent only in the way of friendship. They
had used each other as escorts for convenience. The other young men of Auyval
Beach had never liked her at all. As for Teren, he had always been too busy to
be interested in girls, although he had been quite popular with the girls and
had never known it. Teren was a good friend and he was fun, but he was far too
comfortable--too much like a brother--and he was really rather
ordinary-looking. (Although she had to admit, he did have a nice shape.)
As Miaundea slipped into her green slippers
and laced them over her bare calves to her knees, she tried to picture in her
mind the girl Teren loved. Miaundea didn't doubt she was incredibly beautiful
and probably exceptionally talented in some way. Miaundea knew Teren well
enough to know that any other girl simply wouldn't have merited his attention.
And being the daughter of an Amarian princess, she was probably elegant and
very graceful. Yes, a girl like that would definitely appeal to Teren.
After dressing, Miaundea rapidly closed the
windows and reset the temperature control--no use coming home to a sultry
apartment. In minutes, she was anxiously riding to work in a taxi.
Miaundea didn't think she would get to see
Teren and meet his companions that day, which was unfortunate, but she would be
spending the day assimilating as much as she could of the information the
Agency possessed about Earth, and she would get to communicate with Minon
Doshyr after he arrived from Menaura. What an extraordinary opportunity!
She was most eager, however, to meet the
Earthon doctor. He had to have exceptionally strong mind power to have detected
the Divine Emperor attempting to take control of his mind that first time, to
have resisted him all of those years, and to have used a telepathic formula as
complicated as the spirit dimension formula surely was. That meant he was
likely to be intellectually superior also.
Miaundea contemplated the reasons he may
have had for leaving his people and his life to come to Novaun. Was it because
of a hatred of tyranny? She doubted it. More likely, he had come for the money.
She suddenly had an irresistible desire to know how much Teren had promised
him. Five thousand gold coins? Ten thousand? She wondered what kind of
man became a traitor. Definitely not a virtuous one, and perhaps one who was a
little dangerous. She shivered with excitement.
*
Something terrible has happened!
Jenan's twins just arrived in Shalaun.
How can that
be?
They arrived
in an armed shuttle with a young Fleet agent and an Earthon. What is Jovem
trying to do to us? The girl was never supposed to see Novaun, and I wasn't
supposed to bring the boy here for at least a half a year!
He must have
changed his plans. Yes, he changed his plans. There can be no other
explanation.
Something
went wrong, I tell you. Jovem was so certain Lana was completely submissive and
swore he would never allow any harm come to her, but the twins claim she
committed suicide!
Lana lied to
him about her essence; that has to be it. The thoughts were wrapped in
shock, admiration, and shame. She used his own device against him, kept a
piece of herself back, and fought him with the only weapon she had--herself.
That's
impossible. He would never have taught her to lie about her essence.
He didn't
have to. She knew firsthand he could do it and developed her own method.
Awe and understanding surged through them
both. That explains why he was so obsessed with her. It wasn't just her
beauty and position he wanted; it was her mind. She's as brilliant as he is!
We surrendered at the first difficulty, and
all these years she remained at war.
The Fleet will suspect he's still alive in
a few days, and once they learn his body is gone, they'll know he had help.
They'll know about all of the false sales in a matter of months.
What are we to do? What are we to do!
There's nothing we can do. They will have
us and he will have us. He'll never allow himself to be apprehended until he
has dragged us through the mud of shame and buried us with him.
No! Never! He would gain nothing by
implicating us!
Nothing but a little satisfaction to that
mutated lust for power. Don't you see? We can tell our story and agree to be witnesses,
and we may never have to go to prison. We will be left with a lifetime to
rebuild our reputations. He won't stand for that. He told us he would have one
of us killed, and he will, I tell you, all to prove his superiority.
No . . . oh
no . . . What are we going to do?
Ton gazed through one of the rear windows
of the military aircar as it flew over Shalaun, feeling satisfied. Everything
was proceeding exactly as planned.
Novaun. Secluded . . .
private . . . well defended. It was easily the most powerful
planet in the galaxy, not so much for its excessive military strength (although
Novaunian Fleet was highly respected and feared), but for its wealth and
control of the arelada trade. Because of its exclusiveness, however, the galaxy
knew little about its people and their culture.
From the beginning of his job as a plant,
Ton had been curious to learn how King could know the Novaunian culture so
intimately that he could, with such startling accuracy, predict far in advance
every action of the twins and a young agent he had never met. Ton had always
suspected King was a Novaunian himself, and now that Ton had met the man, he
was even more certain. The man was a traitor and a murderer--he just had that
feel about him. He did, however, possess an incredible mind, and Ton couldn't
help but admire him.
Ton stretched his arms a bit and glanced to
his right. Teren and Deia were nestled together, gazing at each other and
occasionally touching each other's faces. After a moment, Deia's closed her
eyes and laid her head against Teren's neck, smiling in contentment. He gently
smoothed her hair back and kissed her temple. Even as she slept in his arms, he
continued gazing at her. He stroked her face and hair with touches so soft, Ton
wondered if she could even feel them.
Ton marveled at the methods they used to
show affection. There was an intensity of emotion between them that he had
never seen in any of his shipmates' short-lived romances and had never experienced
in all of his own casual liaisons with women. He had known from the beginning
that there was strong attraction between Teren and Deia, but he had always
assumed that they were both driven by lust and that they merely believed they
loved each other. He had, after all, known many others who had been duped by
that sham.
But surely it hadn't been lust that had
made Teren so cautious in his association with Deia, knowing that his love for
her would put her in danger. Since a purely physical relationship probably
wouldn't have affected his mission, wouldn't lust have instead driven him to
pursue immediate gratification from her, especially when he was so close to
death?
And surely it hadn't been lust that had
motivated Deia to give up her ambitions so that she and Teren could be
together. Ton had never been motivated to such acts of sacrifice by anything,
least of all lust. Now, after finally seeing the two in their affection, he
realized that in rare exceptions, love could exist between a man and a woman,
because Teren and Deia certainly loved each other.
Fifteen minutes later, Ton, Teren, Deia,
and Paul's aircar and its five escort transports lowered as they approached a
tiny island. They flew over acres of lawns, gardens, and various recreational
facilities that had originated on different planets, then skirted the marble
mansion and glided to a stop on a third floor landing platform.
The security men in the escort quickly
exited their transports, then surrounded the mansion and took their posts in
the guard towers on the beach. The commanding officer of the small security
group that had been stationed on the island earlier briefly conferred with the
driver of Ton's vehicle, then motioned for Ton and his companions to get out of
the car.
The security officer led the group into a
sparsely furnished lobby with a low ceiling and polished white marble floor.
Off the lobby were two wings of suites. The officer quickly showed Deia her
room in the right wing and Ton, Teren, and Paul their separate rooms in the
left, then directed them into the dining room, where a large oval table
constructed of crystal was already set with eating utensils and napkins and
exotic fruits, breads, cheeses, and fish.
The four seated themselves and ate eagerly.
Using the spirit dimension formula in flight had consumed all of their
strength. By the time the food on the table was almost gone and the four were
full, the security officer entered the dining room again, only this time, a
young woman was with him.
The woman's golden blond hair was braided
around her head, studded with sapphires, and she was wearing a loose-fitting,
pale blue satin gown and carrying an infant seat. A tiny arelada crystal the
shape of a triangle was embedded in her left temple, and a small round arelada
prism sparkled on a gold chain on her forehead. The prism on her forehead
reminded Ton so much of the crystals worn by the Eslavu that he gasped. Judging
by Paul and Deia's speechless expressions, the woman had affected them the same
way.
As soon as Teren saw the woman, he jumped
up and shrieked with delight, "Lauria!" The woman, as overjoyed to
see Teren as he was to see her, set the infant seat on the floor and met him in
an embrace. Teren squeezed her tightly and kissed her several times on her
cheeks and forehead, and she returned all of his affection warmly. After a few
moments, they backed away from each other slightly.
Lauria was smiling, barely, but her eyes
were sad and glistening. "Ah, Teren," she said in English, an
unnatural sound coming from a Novaunian woman, "it is so good to see you,
but it is true, is it not . . . he is dead."
Teren nodded quickly, his face tense and
his eyes glassy.
Tears sprang from Lauria's pale blue eyes
as they closed, and her lips trembled. Teren drew her close again and laid his
face on her shoulder, weeping silently with her.
At length, they withdrew and gently wiped
each other's tears away. Teren's voice quavered, "I thought I was over it,
that I could bear it from now on, but I guess I was just pretending."
Lauria forced herself to smile.
"Enough grief. Perhaps it is better this way. When Mother passed, he
nearly died of a broken heart, but now he is with her and much happier, I am
sure."
Teren nodded solemnly.
Lauria held Teren and arm's length and
surveyed him. After a moment, her eyes brightened a little, and she smiled.
"My baby brother has turned into a man, and a very handsome one at
that." She playfully pinched his arm. "But you are looking pale!"
Teren smiled weakly. "Give me a week
on the beach, and we'll see who's pale. What are you doing here? I didn't think
I'd get to see you for at least another week. And why in the galaxy are you
speaking English?"
"Minon Sharad thought it would be
easier to communicate with your friends if I spoke their language. Rayel and I
have been cleared to be your chaperons."
"Chaperons!" Ton exclaimed. He
laughed, then looked over at Paul and grinned wickedly. "I wouldn't trust
them either."
Paul shook his head and grinned. "I
wouldn't either. That Teren, he's an animal."
"Paul!" Deia exclaimed in
exasperation.
"Well, what can you expect?" Ton
said mischievously. "Deia's a seductress!"
Lauria listened, amused. "Rayel
certainly would not disagree with you. I have communicated with him since you
arrived, and he referred to Deia as--now let me see if I can find the
appropriate words . . . 'the Earthon enchantress.'"
That comment sent Ton and Paul into
hysterics. Deia bowed her head, her cheeks red with embarrassment, and Teren
turned away from Lauria and threw up his arms in resignation.
Noticing Deia's discomfort, Lauria walked
over to her and knelt down beside her chair. "I am sorry I embarrassed
you. We love to tease Teren, but we forget that there is another now who is not
accustomed to it. If you are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the
outside--and I am sure you are--then I can certainly understand why Teren is so
enchanted by you."
Deia smiled. "You're sweet."
Teren knelt down beside the infant seat
Lauria had brought with her. He gently lifted a tiny silk bundle out of the
cradle and held it snugly against his chest as he stood up. He removed the thin
white blanket from a fair little face and stroked the sleeping baby's fuzzy
blond head. "Is it a boy or girl?"
Lauria stood up and faced Teren again.
"A little boy, Braunen. He is eight weeks old."
Deia peered around Lauria at the baby.
"He's beautiful! But where are the rest of your children? Teren said that
you and Rayel have three others."
Lauria laughed merrily. "Do you think
I would bring my children along when I have a chance to be with my husband for
a while in such a beautiful place as this? As soon as Minon Sharad asked me to
do this, I gave them to my sisters!"
Deia appeared puzzled. "Why didn't you
leave the baby too?"
"Because I am the only one who can
feed him."
Deia flushed. "Oh."
Teren shifted the conversation away from
Lauria's baby. "In all of the excitement, I forgot to make
introductions!" He turned toward Paul and Ton. "I guess you've
figured out by now that this is my oldest sister, Lauria Sekura." They
nodded.
Teren turned to face his sister again.
"It seems Minon Sharad has given you a little information about my
companions. How much have you learned?"
"He informed me that Paul and Deia are
the grandchildren of Patan Doshyr, if that is what you mean. He deemed it
unnecessary for them to play-act as Paul and Deia Sheldon while they stay here,
and he felt it would be a difficult thing to do under such casual
circumstances. All of the guards have been informed, and by the time Rayel
arrives tomorrow, he will know too."
Deia hesitated. "I don't mean any
offense, Lauria, but I don't understand why Teren and I need to be chaperoned.
If we were going to do something, we would have done it by now. And besides, I
don't see that it's anyone's business except ours."
"The one thing a Novaunian unmarried
man and woman do not want to do is be alone for an extended period of time
without a chaperon, especially if there are feelings between them, for everyone
they know will think the worst. It is not because people are so distrustful,
but because they remember that time in their lives so well and how vulnerable
they were."
Teren's mouth curved into an astute little
smile. "Tell me, Lauria, did Grandfather recommend you to Minon Sharad, or
did Minon Sharad recommend you to him?"
"Actually, they both thought of Rayel
and me first. And yours was not the only grandfather who requested a
chaperon."
Deia rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"I guess we don't have much choice, do we Teren?"
Teren shook his head. "No."
Lauria squeezed Deia's shoulder. "Do
not worry about it too much, Deia. I am not going to watch you every minute.
That would spoil things for you and Teren, and it would also spoil my vacation.
It is, however, good to have an authority figure near in a situation like this,
if only because it helps you live the standards you have already set for
yourselves. And if it makes you feel any better, a chaperon probably would have
been brought in even if you were not here."
Ton leaned back in his chair, laughing a
little. "Which means you're here to chaperon Paul and me as much as you are
to chaperon our little lovers. Well, I guess there's a first time for
everything."
Paul shook his head in amazement.
"It's been less than two hours since we entered Novaunian space, and it
seems as though everyone on the planet knew we were arriving days ago. Things
sure do happen fast around here."
"That's one of the advantages of a
telepathic world," Teren said.
Lauria nodded. "It was not more than a
few minutes after you broke orbit that all three of my sisters agreed to take
my children, and by the time Minon Sharad communicated with me, he had already
communicated with both grandfathers, the overseer of this island, and had
arranged for a security team to meet you on the landing field. Then I was able
to assimilate your language from another librarian on my way here."
"You learned the entire English
language in fifteen minutes?" Paul exclaimed.
Teren nodded. He touched the arelada
crystal on his sister's forehead. "The faceted forehead crystal is the
emblem of a Guild librarian. Lauria has spent many years beyond regular
education requirements developing her mind so that she can assimilate
information rapidly and recall it just as rapidly. She stores a specific type
of information and releases it into another's mind by request, and by way of
the planetary relay system InterMind, she can release it as easily into the
mind of a person on the other side of the planet as she can to someone who
lives in Shalaun."
Ton regarded Lauria in admiration. "So
you're a human computer."
Lauria smiled modestly. "I suppose that
is a fairly good description of a librarian. But actually, the human mind
working in conjunction with arelada has a much greater storage capacity than a
computer and it can relay that information much more rapidly, which is why
computers for storing information have been obsolete on Novaun for over a
thousand years."
The security officer entered the dining
room again, accompanied by Teren's commanding officer and a man carrying a
small medical kit. Teren immediately set Braunen back into his cradle and
approached the newcomers. He embraced his commanding officer, then communicated
silently with the doctor. The doctor held a small square device to Teren's
right shoulder, and a glowing image of the inside of his shoulder appeared next
to his head.
As the commanding officer introduced
himself to Paul and Deia and shook their hands, Ton moved closer to Teren and
examined the glowing image, astounded by what he saw. The sensoring devices Ton
normally used were precise and accurate, but this image was like nothing he had
seen in all his years of medical training. Ton could not only see every nerve
in Teren's shoulder, and every cell, but he could see inside and around the
nerves and the cells. Teren's wound was as nasty as the image was miraculous.
He wondered how long ago Teren had been shot, thinking it criminal that both
the D.I.I. and Star Force had allowed the wound to go untreated.
The image of the inside of Teren's shoulder
faded and the physician returned his examining device to his kit. He gave him
two bottles of pills. Ton assumed that one contained an anti-inflammatory drug
and that the other contained medication for the pain.
"That was an amazing image, wasn't
it?"
Ton turned to face Teren's commanding
officer. "Yes, it was. What kind of device was he using?"
"An Awareness monitor." The
officer extended his hand. "You must be Dr. Ton Luciani. I'm Colonel
Sharad Quautar, director of the Special Cases division of the Novaunian
Intelligence Agency. Welcome to Novaun."
"Thank you, sir."
The physician left, and Lauria asked Teren,
"What was that all about?"
"I was shot nine weeks ago as I tried
to leave Earth--"
"You were shot!" Deia exclaimed
in horror.
Teren nodded slowly. "Yes, but don't
be alarmed. I have nerve damage--I figured as much when the burning in my
shoulder lingered--but it can be repaired by surgery."
Deia still appeared unsure and very
concerned. She stood up and went to him, embracing him tenderly with one arm.
Ton shook his head, feeling angry.
"Had they treated you the day you were shot, you may not have needed
surgery at all!"
Teren shrugged. "I survived. That
wound was the least of my problems." He yawned in Colonel Quautar's
direction. "Well, let's get this done before I pass out."
Colonel Quautar smiled and motioned to the
men's wing.
*
To Teren's relief, Minon Sharad only
required him to telepathically regurgitate the past two months. He wanted
everything Teren knew about his father's death and Paul and Deia's situation on
Earth. The rest would wait until after Teren had slept.
Once Teren was done, he felt so
light-headed that he had to lie down. Fortunately, he was already sitting on
his bed. He was too weak to communicate telepathically. "How did Paul and
Deia and their mother get lost, minon? Why had I never heard of missing 'royal
twins'?"
"It's no surprise that you aren't
familiar with the tragic circumstances surrounding the death of Jenan Doshyr
and the disappearance of his wife, the Princess Lanuvael of Amaria, and their
twin children. Perhaps it's because of the extreme tragedy of the story that
those of my generation don't discuss it."
"What happened?"
"Minon Doshyr was killed in a fire on
Latanza. His wife was believed to have been so traumatized that she went into
hiding to save her children from being killed."
"So everyone thought she'd gone
insane."
"The evidence was overwhelming."
"He must've planned the whole
thing . . . the fire and everything."
"Sanel King?"
Teren nodded. "He's a Novaunian; he
has to be. Was there ever a traitor among the Doshyrs or Vumauls?"
Minon Sharad nodded slowly, frowning.
"Yes . . . that story is even more tragic than the death of
Minon Doshyr and the disappearance of his family, and it's connected in many
ways."
"What happened?"
"Several months before Minon Doshyr
and his family took holiday on Latanza, his younger brother Jovem was
incarcerated for high treason and murder."
"Murder? On Novaun? Who did he kill?
And what in the galaxy was his treason?"
Minon Sharad's face was grave. "He
murdered his brother's firstborn, a beautiful little two-year-old girl, and it
was brutal--a mind rape."
Teren felt as though he would be sick. Paul
and Deia had had a sister. All he could see in his mind at the moment was the
picture of them with their mother and Sanel--and the sadness in her eyes. A
feeling of foreboding suddenly overcame him. How would Paul and Deia react when
they were forced to confront this particular piece of family history?
"As for the treason," Colonel
Quautar continued, "he conspired to sell part of the Doshyr mining
territory to some Vaenan investors, but his effort was thwarted by his
brother."
"So what do the Doshyrs believe
happened to Jovem? After what you've told me, I feel very strongly that Jovem
Doshyr and Sanel King are the same person."
"Not possible. Before Jovem went to
Shalaun to stand trial, he committed suicide."
Teren rubbed his temples. "And
supposedly Princess Lanuvael went crazy and took the twins to Earth by her own
choice. After what I showed you, minon, you can still believe that?"
"I won't know what to believe until
I've interviewed Paul and Deia."
"It's the same man."
"You have no evidence, and Awareness
monitors don't lie."
"Sanel King is far too young-looking,
and he knew Paul and Deia's father."
"King could be a Kavellan. Or a
Manourean. And it would be unusual for a man not to know something about
his wife's first husband."
"I know there's no solid evidence yet,
but the possibility makes too much sense. You have to admit that it does."
"It would explain a great deal,"
Minon Sharad conceded.
"Certainly it couldn't hurt anything
to send someone to Menaura to take a look at the grave."
Minon Sharad thoughtfully tapped his lips.
"Perhaps not . . . if we can keep it unofficial." The
corner of his mouth lifted in a conspiratorial smile. "Patriarch Doshyr
himself might be willing to take a telepathic peek into his son's grave before
he leaves Menaura."
*
Miaundea slipped into a taxi after work
that afternoon, invigorated by her communication with Patan Doshyr and his
daughter Amburna, but disappointed she had been unable to see Teren and meet
his friends. She was, however, excited about the opportunity she would have to
meet with Deia alone the next morning to give her the clothing and personal
items she would need.
Miaundea took the taxi to her parents' home
in Auyval Beach as she did every Fourth Day evening for dinner and family
council-scripture discussion. The taxi stopped on the landing platform where
the neighborhood walks came together. She emerged from the taxi, exhausted from
a long day of mind work, but happy. Since the weather was pleasant, she took
the walk instead of the transport pod that connected the landing platform with
her parents' home.
After she had been walking five minutes and
was almost to her parents' home, her happiness evaporated, replaced by
excitement and, at the same time, dread. There he was on his way to the beach
for surfing with two of his friends, tall and muscular in his swim shorts and
tank top, fair and dark-haired, with contemptuous, heart-stopping blue eyes,
beautiful, brilliant--an arrogant prude. There he was, resplendent, a supernova
in a galaxy of weak little stars, her childhood love, her greatest
enemy--Maurek Avenaunta.
She struggled to repress her excitement,
but the more she struggled, the more the excitement intensified, and that made
her angry, angry at herself for still being so excited by him, but more angry
at him. How dare he walk by her parents' home! How dare he ruin her evening!
The three young men approached her before
she could hurry across the walk to her parents' house. When Maurek saw her,
something all-too-familiar happened to his face, something Miaundea could only
assume was displeasure at seeing her. It flushed, then paled, then some of the
blood returned, leaving it mottled. His eyes weren't contemptuous this time,
but staring at the ground to avoid looking at her. After a moment, they rose
again, as if compelled, and looked at her uneasily.
The friends, Fanal Huneer and Trenaun
Vodel, looked at nothing but her dress as they approached. Trenaun gazed at her
in amusement, and Fanal was wearing a taunting little smirk.
Trenaun rested the bottom of his surfboard
on the marble walk and leaned on it. Hello, Miaundea, he communicated
with an air of friendliness. It's been a long time. His eyes were still
studying her dress.
Miaundea resented Trenaun's attention to
her clothing. Hello, Trenaun, she communicated icily.
Fanal did not appreciate the coldness of
Miaundea's reply to his friend. It's a miracle, Trenaun, he communicated
sarcastically. The queen of Auyval Beach deigns to give you a hello.
Miaundea felt bitterness rise within her. And
I'm so delighted to see you too, Fanal. Miaundea looked away from them and
resumed her walk to her parents' home.
Feeling one of them seize her arm, she
turned. Seeing the culprit was Maurek, she looked at him uneasily, yanking her
arm out of his hand and stepping away from him.
Maurek stepped away from her, his eyes
charged with agitation and his face quivering. He hesitated, then communicated
quickly, That's a pretty dress, Miaundea. You look very pretty today.
Trenaun looked at Maurek in surprise; Fanal was suspicious. The corner of
Maurek's mouth lifted into the slightest of smiles, and Miaundea thought he was
ready to laugh at her.
Miaundea's body tightened in outrage. Of
all the gall! How dare he taunt her with a compliment on her dress, her bland,
conservative dress! He wasn't going to get away with such sarcasm. It's a
miracle! she communicated in mock shock. Maurek Avenaunta deigns to give
my dress his approval. It's too bad there isn't a dance tonight. Perhaps I
would even go with you.
Maurek stared at Miaundea as she turned
and walked determinedly back toward the neighborhood landing platform, quaking
with rage.
Miaundea slid into the waiting taxi and
took it to her apartment downtown. Her fury was dying, but she couldn't face
anyone at the moment, not even her family. Three and a half years had passed
since that horrible night, the night that had started it all. Three years had
taken them into the Fleet and her away from Novaun for fieldwork. She had seen
Maurek rarely in the three months she had been home and until that evening, had
never communicated with him. Fanal and Trenaun she hadn't seen at all. Why
hadn't they changed? Why did they still have to provoke her? She loathed them,
but, at the same time, she longed for their approval and respect. Auyval Beach
passed by her in a blur.
When she arrived at her apartment, she
trudged into her dressing lounge and sat down on her chaise longue, enveloped
in despair as she remembered. She had loved Maurek once. He had always been
extraordinary. Extraordinarily handsome. Extraordinarily brilliant.
Extraordinarily talented. She became interested in diving because he was interested
in diving. She went to the pool every day and watched him passionately,
although always passively.
Maurek always watched her too, and as time
went on, he became less subtle about it. Although they were attentive to each
other, they never communicated, except with smiles and an occasional touch in
passing. When he asked her to the Salyumala Ball, Auyval Beach's most
extravagant annual event, she was thrilled. She immediately began designing and
sewing a dress as magnificent as the ball she would be attending. She put all
of her love for Maurek into that dress. She wanted to be beautiful for him.
When the dress was finished, it looked even more exquisite on her than she had imagined it would. It made her look sophisticated, not so much like a little girl, and as lovely as she was capable of looking. The dress was crimson satin, overlaid with a delicate lace, dotted with tiny crystal beads, the hem falling just a little above her knees, with moderate slits in the sides. It flowed elegantly over and around her curves, showing them off to their greatest advantage, the front and back V-shaped necklines coming together at points at her shoulders.
Her parents warned her about the dress. They believed some people would be uncomfortable with it and think it was too revealing. Her father admitted to being disturbed by the dress himself and nearly forbade her to wear it. She, of course, defended her dress, telling him that there was nothing immodest about it and that she would wear it whether he approved or not. Her mother resolved the conflict by pointing out that it was disturbing, but only because the style was so different, not because it was immodest. Her father eventually gave up and told her that he didn't mind her wearing the dress, as long as she didn't complain later about the negative comments she would undoubtedly receive. Miaundea expected a few negative remarks about the dress, but she never anticipated the disapproval and rejection she would receive from Maurek.
Her older sisters were baking a cake for the guests that they would entertain after the ball, and the whole house was filled with its aroma as she ran to answer the door. She was overwhelmed by excitement to see Maurek and hoped he would be as excited to see her. She tingled with anticipation when she saw him standing on her front porch, dressed so neatly in his new white suit.
At first, he was
excited to see her. He was smiling, and his blue eyes were radiant and alive.
Then, almost immediately, his face flushed, then was pale, then mottled. He
communicated, completely flustered, That dress . . . that
dress is, well, it's . . . totally improper. Please go change.
She couldn't
believe it. Of all the nerve! Insisting she change her dress! I will not!
This dress covers me and is completely appropriate.
Her defensiveness seemed to give him
courage and resolve. If you don't change your dress, then I'm afraid I can't
take you to the ball.
His manner was pleasant, but his eyes were so presumptuous at that moment, too presumptuous. He had no doubt that she would respect his wishes and change her dress. Then it appears you will be going to the ball alone! She slammed the door, but not before she saw his expression of astonishment and humiliation.
Seeing him so humiliated that night hurt her as much as his rejection. She feigned illness and didn't come out of her room for a week, except to go to the bathroom. Even then, her parents never suspected her feelings for Maurek. She had never even told Alysia. Those closest to her assumed she had exiled herself to her room because her pride was hurt. She emerged from her room after a week, haggard and hardened, left to thrash in the wake of Maurek's mortification. How could he have told all of his friends that he didn't take her to the dance because she had come to the door "dressed shamelessly, like a hussy"?
Miaundea never
discussed the events of that night with anyone, communicating only, I will
not tolerate having a domineering prude insist I change my dress. She had
promised her father she wouldn't complain about any negative comments she might
receive about her dress, and except for that simple explanation, she never did.
Miaundea pulled herself off of her chaise
longue, dragged herself to her closet, and removed the wardrobe bag that stored
the dress she had worn that night. She had placed it in the bag then and hadn't
been able to bring herself to look at it since. Holding her breath, she ever so
carefully removed the dress. It was as lovely as it had been the night of the
dance. Her eyes filled with tears, leaving her dress a glistening veil in her
hands. She fought hard to keep the tears from falling. She never cried, not
even for Maurek. Especially not for Maurek. Her tears dissipated, and she was
again staring at her sparkling party dress. It should never have happened. She
would do the same thing again given the same provocation, but still, she wished
it had never happened.
She laid her dress on her bed and went to
her crystal vanity. She carefully removed what little make-up she was wearing
and brushed her hair, parting it more traditionally in the middle, braiding
many tiny strands, and looping the strands of braids and pinning them to her
head with tiny jeweled barrettes. She arose from her chair and went to her
full-length holoreflector.
She gazed painfully at her reflection. She
was so petite that she looked like a little girl, especially in that prudish
Novaunian-style dress that had no form. Her facial features were tiny and
bland, except for her eyes, which she had always felt were disproportionately
large. Why couldn't she have been born taller, more curvaceous, and with lush
dark lashes? Why couldn't she have been born beautiful? She made a face.
Is this what you want, Novaunian men? Miaundea
the ugly little girl? No one but that prude of the century ever noticed her,
and I never liked her!
With fierce rejuvenation, she took off her
cream-colored dress with its pinstripes, wadded it up, and threw it in the
trash, then slipped, trembling, into her magnificent party dress. She reseated
herself at her vanity and shook out the dowdy braids, brushing and teasing her
hair, parting it again on the side. She applied her make-up generously,
brushing her eyelids with silvery gray eye shadow, blackening her lashes with
heavy mascara, and touching her cheekbones with rouge. Then for an even more
emphatic impression, she painted her lips with crimson lipstick.
She went to her holoreflector again and
smiled at herself in satisfaction. Who needs you, Maurek Avenaunta!
The moment Teren saw Minon Sharad the next
morning, he knew that his hunch was correct. The grave's empty, isn't it?
Minon Sharad nodded. It's official--our
government now presumes Sanel King is Jovem Doshyr.
*
Ton entered Colonel Sharad Quautar's office
suite on the second floor of the mansion the next afternoon as Paul was
leaving. The colonel met him at the door and extended his hand to him, smiling.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Ton."
"You speak English easily," Ton
observed. "Lauria speaks it correctly, but not so freely." Even as
Ton spoke, realization trickled through him. "How long has it been since
you were assigned there?"
"Twenty-six years."
"But that would have been at the
beginning of the Dark Years. Were you there during the initial invasion?"
Colonel Quautar nodded. "We were in
Washington, D.C. to pick up an agent. I was in the craft that shot down Tohmazz
Zarr."
Ton tilted his head toward the colonel,
eager for more information. "What happened? I was taught that Zarr was
killed by the Dirons in the invasion."
"That's a story that will have to wait
for another time." Colonel Quautar waved Ton into an armchair upholstered
with pale blue silk.
Ton sat down. "You don't look old
enough to have been there. How long do you Novaunians live, anyway?"
The colonel reached under his
diamond-trimmed half vest. "About two-hundred years." Ton could do
nothing but gape.
The colonel brought forth a device that
looked like a stylus. "With this instrument, I'll insert a tiny arelada
crystal into your temple. This will give you complete Awareness, but you won't
be able to transmit thoughts beyond a distance of five meters. When you and your
friends are allowed to leave Dignitary Island, you will each be given the
amount of arelada necessary to use InterMind."
The colonel held the device to Ton's
temple. "You'll feel a slight prick . . . There. Now I want
you to pull the spirit dimension formula out of your Awareness and put it to
the front of your mind. I'll overlap spirits with you partway and block the
memory."
Ton did as the colonel asked. In moments,
he was unable to recall the spirit dimension formula.
Colonel Quautar replaced the cylinder
device in the pocket under his half-vest. "The Earthons possess this
knowledge and know that we do too, so you shouldn't worry about their
kidnapping you for the spirit dimension formula. By the same token, the memory
block will enable us to allow you to move about freely on Novaun or anywhere
you would like without worrying about your selling the formula to another
government."
Ton nodded that he understood. Colonel
Quautar seated himself in the chair opposite him. "It's necessary for me
at this time to ask you a few questions."
The colonel was so close that his knees
were no more than half a meter away. "You mean you want to interrogate
me."
"Call it what you want, but I prefer
not to refer to this interview as interrogation. I want our communication to be
natural, and I have no desire to intimidate you in any way. I also want you to
understand that none of what we discuss will be made public. Indeed, most of it
will not go beyond this office."
Ton shrugged in surrender and his pushed
his lower back against the chair in an effort to move as far away from the
colonel as he could. "Then let's get it over with."
"I'm most interested, Ton, to know
what motivated you to come to Novaun with Teren."
"It seemed like a good thing to do at
the time."
"Why?"
The colonel's question caught Ton off
guard. He had expected a reprimand, a request for a more specific
answer--anything but a "why."
"Well, as Deia said when she
approached me about Teren's problem, I had nothing to lose and everything to
gain. In fact, coming to Novaun was probably the best career move I've ever
made. The military's much too restrictive."
"Your attitude suggests that you
believe your career was the only aspect of your life that was affected by your
decision. Won't you miss your friends? Your family?"
"I don't have any friends, and no, I
won't miss my family." Ton realized he was drumming his fingers on his
thigh and immediately stopped, not wanting the colonel to observe how nervous
he was.
"Will anyone in your family miss
you?"
"They'll be glad I'm gone."
The colonel leaned back in his chair and
folded his arms over his waist. "I understand, Ton, that you were born on
Earth date August 6, 2 Before Liberation, in Baltimore, North American State,
to Marco and Lisa Luciani, and that you have two sisters, Angela Passari and
Jacquae."
Ton grunted. "Teren certainly was
thorough. I didn't tell him those things."
Colonel Quautar smiled good-naturedly.
"Teren may be young and relatively inexperienced, but he knows his
business. I understand your mother is an inspector in a synthesizing machine
factory, but according to the Sovereign's file on you, your father has
no occupation."
"That's strange. Even if I don't know
what my father does, the government should."
"How long has it been since you've
seen your father?"
Unable to meet the colonel's penetrating
gaze any longer, Ton turned his head and studied the gem-studded tapestry on
the wall. "He left right before the Divine Emperor's army marched on
Baltimore and burned out Antonio Vaccaro and his rebels. I was eight months
old."
"Then he isn't Jacquae's father."
"No."
"Did your mother ever talk about your
father and what he did?"
"Oh, she talked about him, had quite a
few colorful names for him, but I don't ever remember her mentioning his
occupation." Realizing that he was drumming his thigh yet again, Ton moved
his hands to the armrests of his chair. "What does this mean? Certainly
the government knows where my father is . . . doesn't it?"
"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure,
and we can't know unless we see his personal file. If the government doesn't
have any up-to-date information on him, then perhaps he left the planet or
secretly changed his name. The other alternative is that he died and his body
was never identified."
Ton couldn't think of a thing to say.
"Do you ever wonder about him? What he
was like?"
The tapestry suddenly went hazy. Ton
diverted his attention from it to his lap. "Sometimes. My mother always
said that he was as much a son of Abomination as Antonio Vaccaro, but she
always spoke with bitterness, so I was never sure what to believe."
"Does she believe he really was one of
Vaccaro's rebels?"
"No. If anything, she believes the
opposite, that he was a Zarrist spy in Vaccaro's organization and that he
bolted when he learned Baltimore was going to be torched. I don't think she'll
ever forgive him for leaving her there to live through what happened after
that."
"Would you like to know where he is
now and what he's doing?"
"I'm not sure."
"Did your mother ever try to get a
divorce?"
"I don't know, but I was always under
the impression that she used the known difficulty of obtaining a divorce on
Earth as an excuse not to try."
"So she never remarried."
"No."
"According to your school records,
your grades during levels one through seven were mediocre, then practically
overnight, during level eight, your grades jumped from mediocre to excellent,
and you were able to complete the next five levels in only four years, allowing
you to graduate from high school as a science major at the young age of
sixteen, still receiving perfect grades. I'm curious to know, Ton, what it was
that brought about such a dramatic change."
Ton shrugged.
"I find it difficult to believe that a
twelve-year-old boy would take that kind of initiative entirely on his own,
especially a boy in your particular situation."
Ton stared at his lap for a long minute.
Finally he said, resignedly, "It was Adrian. Adrian Passari, my eighth
level teacher. He spent hours and hours tutoring me in his home, and he
encouraged me and believed in me when no one ever had. He saved my life."
"How long did this go on?"
"Four years."
"You two must have become quite close
during those four years."
Ton finally met the colonel's gaze.
"Yes . . . we did."
"What happened to change things? Did
it have something to do with your sister? She married him, I presume."
Ton's body tensed. "Yes, he did marry
Angela, and then five months later, he found her with another man, the whore.
And then she had the gall to lie and tell everyone that she was leaving him
because he beat her." Ton leaned forward and rested his elbows on his
knees and his face into his hands. "Adrian is honest and decent, and he
didn't deserve to be betrayed. And he really loved her too, or at least he
thought he did. A lot that got him--shot in the back. Things between Adrian and
me never were quite the same after that."
"Did you communicate with him while
you were in Star Force?"
Ton rubbed his temples. "All of this
happened shortly before I joined Star Force. I wrote to him occasionally during
my three years on the Prince Jahnzel, but he never answered. Then before
I went to the Sovereign, I saw him while I was in Baltimore on leave. We
corresponded regularly after that and spent my last leave together in
Europe."
Colonel Quautar laid a hand on Ton's
shoulder, startling him. "A few minutes ago you told me you didn't have
any friends to miss, but it seems to me that you and Adrian are very good
friends."
"Yes, I guess we are," Ton
admitted, sitting up. "But my friendship with Adrian is something very
personal, which is why I didn't want to tell you about it. I wasn't lying
before. I don't have any other friends on Earth or anywhere else I've been
stationed, and Adrian is more than just a friend. He's like an older brother. I
will miss him." Ton relaxed into his chair, feeling drained.
"Was it Adrian who told you to resist
communication from the Divine Emperor on your Day of Awakening?"
Ton shook his head, finally able to meet
the colonel's gaze again. "I did that on my own. I'm not sure Adrian's
even a resister. One doesn't speak of those things on Earth, for obvious
reasons."
"Did the knowledge that the Divine
Emperor wanted control of your mind change your feelings about him and Earth's
religion, or did it simply confirm what you already knew or suspected?"
"Before that time, I'd never given
religion or politics much thought. My family supported the Divine Emperor and
his government and attended Worship regularly, because those are the things
good Earth citizens do. And since I was young and had nothing else to believe
in, I never questioned it. But when the Divine Emperor attempted to take
control of a cell in my brain, I understood everything about the government's
corrupt intentions and Tohmazz Zarr's sham, and it made me furious, so I immediately
threw him out."
"Did you ever allude to what happened
to anyone?"
"I never came out and said it, because
no one would've believed me, no one but the Executioners. I don't think I
understood at the time, though, how great a danger the Executioners really were
to me. By the time I realized it, I also realized that my brain was my best
ticket to a nice long life. As for the other, I did stop attending Worship,
which caused an uproar in my family."
"Did your experience with Zarrism
disillusion you to such an extent that you turned atheist?"
"Yes, I suppose it did."
"Why did you choose the medical
profession?"
"Medicine has always interested me,
even when I was very young, although I'd never given it serious thought until
after I met Adrian."
"And it was Adrian, I presume, who
suggested Star Force."
Ton nodded. "I was somewhat familiar
with Star Force at the time, of course, but I'd never even heard of the cadet
program. I had no money for medical school, and no money to support myself
while I was in school, so Star Force seemed to be the best route. As it turned
out, it was the best thing I ever did. I needed to get out of Baltimore and the
situation there with my family, and I also needed to make my own life."
"So once you joined Star Force, did
you find that you enjoyed medicine as much as you thought you would?"
"It was wonderful. Star Force has an
excellent program, and everywhere I was stationed I was able to train with
physicians who are experts in their specialties in the best of facilities.
There was always so much to learn and experience, and I never could get enough
of it."
"Both Paul and Teren indicated that
you helped Deia study and spent time with her in ways that weren't required by
the job, which led the other cadets to believe that you wanted her as a lover.
Was there any truth at all to that speculation?"
Ton shook his head. "I've never been
attracted to her in that way."
"Why? She is, after all, an extremely
beautiful girl."
"Yes, she is very beautiful. Like a
statue. And she's also about as exciting as one."
The colonel understood completely, and
oddly, Ton felt pleasure in that. "How do you explain Deia's acceptance of
you when you were so disliked by most of the others?"
"I can't explain it other than to
point out that she's tolerated Paul for eighteen years. If she can tolerate
him, she can tolerate anyone, even me."
"I assume you don't have a high
opinion of Paul."
"He's a spoiled aristocrat and more vain
than anyone I've ever met. All we heard from him this morning was how badly his
new clothes are tailored and how none of the colors bring out his features
properly. As if any of us even care!" Ton rolled his eyes. "He is
impossible to live with."
"And if you didn't have to live with
him?"
Ton considered the colonel's question.
Finally he replied, "Maybe then I wouldn't think he's such a bad
sort."
"Do you think your relationship with
Teren will change now that his mission is over?"
"I'm not sure. Whether there was ever
more to the friendship than his need for a third helper has yet to be
seen."
"Do you feel that your experience
using the spirit dimension formula with Teren, Deia, and Paul has changed your
relationships with them in any way?"
Ton contemplated the colonel's inquiry for
several moments. "I'm not sure if it's changed things. It's really too
soon to tell." He ran his finger over the piping on the arm of his chair.
"But we were in a very emotional state, and I don't know about the others,
but I could feel their essences, and well . . . I feel like I
understand them all a little better now, especially Paul and Teren. I didn't
notice it so much with Deia, and I think that's because I'd already felt the
same thing with her, only in a smaller degree, while doing the mind power
experiments."
Colonel Quautar seemed satisfied with Ton's
answer. "What were your career plans before Deia approached you about
coming to Novaun with Teren? Were you planning to retire with Star Force, or
were you hoping for an eventual discharge?"
"I would've stayed with Star Force.
Discharges are difficult to get unless you're well connected, and I could've
waited years beyond the fourteen I was committed. Besides that, I'm well-suited
for space travel and I enjoy it, and I've never had a home on Earth to go back
to."
"What would you like to do now? Do you
wish to remain on Novaun, or would you prefer to have us set you up on another
planet?"
Ton laughed. "The minute I leave this
planet, I'll be shot for treason. I have no desire to leave." He picked at
the piping on his chair. "How safe is it here, really? I don't see that
Teren and Deia and Paul are in any danger since this is the planet of their
birth. That makes their actions justifiable even to the Earthons and their
warped sense of values."
"Novaun is extremely safe,"
Colonel Quautar said carefully. "No one enters our space illegally who is
not immediately grounded on one of our border planets, and no one is allowed to
mingle in Novaunian society on any of our planets without being cleared,
because our telepathic society cannot work uninhibitedly and successfully if
there are impurities.
"I would not be being honest with you,
however, if I were to tell you that foreign agents are nonexistent on Novaun.
Occasionally one gets in, but as soon as he or she is discovered--and our
society being what it is, that usually isn't very long--he is immediately put
in prison until he is no longer a threat to us. If a foreign agent breaks a
law, he is subject to punishment under our law, and the penalty for
premeditated murder is execution after trial. During the forty years I've been
in this business, we've captured around one hundred foreign agents. Only three
of those attempted assassination, and all three were thwarted in their
efforts."
The colonel sighed. "Only one person
in recent Novaunian history has murdered and avoided the punishment, a native
Novaunian, a traitor of the worse kind--Jovem Doshyr."
"Would this Jovem Doshyr be related to
Paul and Deia?"
"Yes. He's their father's brother, and
until yesterday, was believed dead."
Ton nodded slowly. "Sanel King."
"Yes. But you will learn that story
soon enough, so I'll tell you no more about it. I was merely illustrating that
you are safe here. Accomplishing an assassination on Novaun is extremely
difficult, and when it is accomplished, the assassin is dealt with immediately
and effectively. Planets who deal with us know this, which is why their spies don't
attempt it unless, in their opinion, it's critically necessary.
"Now as far as the Earthons go,
assassination is common procedure. They are not, however, bloodthirsty
barbarians. When they deem assassination necessary, it is always because it
will benefit them in some way, and it is seldom done for vengeance,
particularly when the killing must be accomplished under difficult
circumstances, as on Novaun. Your death wouldn't serve the Earthons any useful
purpose, because they've probably already declared you dead to the public
anyway. The situation being what it is, it would be unlike them to risk the
life of one of their best agents for you."
The colonel studied Ton's face. "If
you are so worried about your life, why did you come with Teren in the first
place? And don't give me, 'It just seemed like a good thing to do at the time
and I had nothing to lose.' A person does not place himself in a potentially
dangerous situation, whether real or imagined, because 'It seemed like a good
thing to do at the time.'"
"You really want to know why I came?
Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money."
Colonel Quautar scrutinized Ton's
expression. "I see."
The colonel still didn't believe him
completely--Ton was sure of it. He wasn't, however, going to pursue his doubts
in the interview, but he would put him under surveillance once he released him
into Novaunian society. Ton felt some comfort in that, and yet he knew he would
have to be careful.
"So did I pass?" Ton suddenly
asked. "Am I a spy?"
The colonel raised his eyebrows and smiled
temptingly. "I'll reserve judgment until I've received all the necessary
information from my various sources."
"One of whom is King himself, no
doubt."
Colonel Quautar's smile lingered.
"Perhaps you can introduce me to him."
Too jarred to think of a comeback, Ton
forced himself to chuckle.
Colonel Quautar's smile faded. "Since
you wish to stay on Novaun, I must at this time impose a few rules on
you."
"Rules?" Ton said skeptically.
The colonel nodded slowly. "Yes,
rules. I'm being completely honest when I tell you that I don't want to do
this. I don't, however, have any choice, since many aspects of your lifestyle
can't be tolerated in this society."
Ton's skepticism changed to scorn.
"The reason you don't want to do this is not because you would have me
live my life the way I choose. You just wish my habits corresponded more to
those of Novaunians so that you wouldn't have to set any rules."
"You're right. I abhor many of your
personal practices, and I wouldn't want to see you live the way you do here or
anywhere else. I hate to see anyone engage in such destructive behavior. I
doubt there's anyone you'll meet here who won't feel the same way, but that's
beside the point.
"It's unlikely anyone will be
prejudiced against you because of your past, as long as you don't make an issue
of it and as long as you abide by the rules. The only way I can see your past
being a true problem is if, by chance, you decide you want to marry, but that's
something you'll have to work out for yourself, when and if that time ever
comes.
"As far as rules go, there will only
be two. First, and this is extremely important, you can't drive or use
InterMind within six hours of having a drink, a taffuao, or any other drug.
This is necessary, because it doesn't take much alcohol or osalaem to impair a
telepathic network like InterMind. If you do use the network under the
influence of either one of the drugs, I'll find out about it immediately, so
don't even try. Along with this, you won't be allowed to drink or smoke
publicly, but you may do it in your own living quarters. I'll communicate with
your landlord personally to make sure you are extended this courtesy. While you
are here at the mansion, you may smoke outside too, as long as your companions
don't mind.
"Secondly, I don't want to learn that
you've made improper advances toward any young females, and I don't think I
need to explain what I mean by 'improper.' If you do, ninety-nine point nine
percent will be outraged, and rightly so. Then they and their families will
become suspicious of you, and if you lose that kind of trust among Novaunians,
I will have to take away your privileges to InterMind. If, by chance, you do
find a girl who is willing and are physically intimate with her, then you will
be responsible for your portion of the fine, which means you could end up
paying the government anywhere from one thousand to twenty thousand gold coins,
and I can guarantee you that in your case, a judge would not be lenient. If a
child comes from the union, then you would be responsible for that child too,
which in your case, would probably mean you would have to pay a settlement of
several hundred gold coins to the girl's family since you wouldn't be here long
enough to do anything else. Do you understand?"
Ton nodded.
"If you break either one of the rules,
you'll be responsible for all of the fines, and I'll immediately deport you,
because no one's going to want you here if you can't show proper consideration
and respect for the established customs and laws of this society, and more
importantly, it's impossible to live in this society without using InterMind. I
know this is going to be difficult for you, so if in a few months you decide
you can't abide by the restrictions, I'll set you up secretly on another
planet. The Earthons will never find you, unless you want them to. Do you still
want to stay here?"
"I really don't have any choice."
The colonel nodded once, considering the
matter closed. "Now for the matter of your payment. The twenty-four
thousand gold coins Teren promised you will be deposited into a bank in
Shalaun. In the next day or two, I'll send over a representative from the
medical community in Shalaun to discuss your options with you. Then once you
determine the direction you wish to pursue your medical training, I'll have my
daughter research the available positions and help you make application."
Ton shook his head. "No. I want a
representative here today."
The colonel's eyebrows shot up in surprise
and amusement.
"I've been working my entire career to
specialize as a neurosurgeon, and I intend to complete my training in that
specialty. The available positions may be limited, and I have no intention of
idling away my time on this island when I can prepare myself to obtain license
to practice medicine on this planet, and I do intend to practice as soon as
possible. I need language training, information on the diseases encountered
here and their treatments, information on medical equipment and technology, and
especially, the names of the medicines Novaunian physicians use and their
chemical compositions."
"I understand. I'll get someone over
here this afternoon."
Ton nodded, satisfied with the colonel's
answer.
The colonel stood up and proceeded to the
door. Ton arose and followed him. Before Ton could leave, the colonel placed a
hand warmly on his shoulder. "There's no need for cynicism on Novaun. The
people here are very loving and hospitable and sincere, even to young Earthons
who are reluctant to trust them. I wish you well."
Ton frowned, surprised by such perception
and show of kindness from the colonel. After a moment, he nodded once.
"Thanks."
"Go ahead and send Deia in."
"Sure." Ton immediately stepped
through the door to face a wide-eyed Deia.
"How did it go?" she whispered.
Ton brushed the back of his hand over his
forehead and let out a heavy, "Whew . . ."
"What did he ask you?"
Ton shook his head. "You're getting
nothing from me--I like to forget bad experiences. You're on your own,
kid."
It was only after Ton had proceeded down
the corridor a little way and had heard the office door slide shut behind Deia
that he could allow himself a deep sigh and a shiver of relief.
Ton had finished his meal and was relaxing
into his long, delicately carved jade patio chair, when he heard movement at
the French doors that opened onto the balcony. He tilted his head forward
slightly to see Lauria with her husband and a girl he assumed was Miaundea
Quautar, their cultural tutor.
Ton watched Miaundea curiously as she and
Teren enthusiastically embraced and kissed each other's cheeks. So this was the
colonel's daughter. She wasn't perfectly beautiful, but she was attractive,
with a petite, exquisite figure that was displayed in an exciting way by her
sleeveless green satin dress. The dress's softly draped neckline exposed a
gracious half of her graceful back, and the hem fell several centimeters above
her knees to reveal fair, shapely legs. She was wearing a large,
teardrop-shaped arelada prism on a long, braided gold chain around her neck,
and her hair was parted on the side and was pale blond with just a tinge of
red, the ends curled under and clinging alluringly to her bare shoulders and
back. Her face was pretty with a delicate nose and tiny mouth, but what
appealed to him most was the inquisitive, intellectual quality about her large,
yellow-green eyes.
Teren released Miaundea and pointed her
toward the table. "Miaundea Quautar, I'd like you to meet Novaun's two
most eligible bachelors, Ton Luciani and Paul Doshyr!" Miaundea smiled and
unconsciously smoothed her hair over her ear.
Paul and Deia laughed, but Ton pushed
himself out of his chair and demanded in protest, "Eligible for what?"
Miaundea's eyes sparkled knowingly as she
tilted her head to look up at Ton. "Why, marriage of course, Dr.
Luciani."
"Then I am definitely not eligible."
Miaundea smiled invitingly, a smile that
was more in her eyes than on her lips. "You have no idea how much that
disappoints me."
Ton slid his finger slowly along Miaundea's
hairline. "When am I going to get my official Novaunian welcome?"
Miaundea frowned. "Novaunian
welcome?"
Ton traced the outline of her mouth with
his finger. "Mmmm, hmmm. Everything here is so huggy-huggy, kissy-kissy,
but even so, I haven't yet received a true Novaunian welcome."
Miaundea grinned, her eyes full of
laughter. "It would be improper for me to give an 'official Novaunian
welcome' to an ineligible bachelor."
"You know, for a person who's just
been reunited with a very good friend, a friend who wouldn't be here now if I
hadn't come to Novaun, you don't seem very grateful." He rested his hands
on her waist. "How about that welcome now?"
Miaundea carefully removed his hands and
stepped back. "It seems to me, Cadet Mentor Luciani," she began, with
emphasis on "Cadet Mentor," as if to emphasize his treason,
"that twenty-four thousand gold coins is more than adequate Novaunian
welcome for returning Teren, the spirit dimension formula, and the Doshyr twins
to Novaun."
"I find it interesting that the life
of a friend is worth so much to you."
"Perhaps you should be asking Teren for
your 'official Novaunian welcome!'" Everyone laughed.
Ton's excitement for this girl grew with
every verbal thrust. She acted so cool, tried to be so sophisticated, but the
exhilaration in her eyes and the way she watched him told him that he was as
attractive to her as she was to him. Miaundea was in no way artless, but he was
an artist. It wouldn't take him long to discover her vulnerabilities.
"But you are much lovelier than Teren,
and a much better kisser, I'm sure."
"You certainly are persistent!"
"I wouldn't be so persistent if you
weren't interested."
"And presumptuous."
"Which is precisely why I'm so
attractive to you."
"Begging doesn't become you."
"It won't be long before you're
begging me."
"You are a masochist!"
"Come hurt me all over."
"What are you? Some kind of
pornographic caricature?"
"No, I'm a pornographic
masterpiece!"
Miaundea couldn't keep herself from
laughing and neither could anyone else. Ton casually reseated himself,
confident he had won the bout.
After the laughter died, Miaundea, Lauria,
and Rayel pulled up chairs and the conversation continued with lively
discussion about the Quautar and Zaurvau families and the happenings in Auyval
Beach. Ton wasn't the least bit interested in any of the conversation, and it
seemed to him that nothing new or exciting ever happened on Novaun.
Of much more interest to him was Miaundea.
His gaze sauntered over the curves of her body, and when he fantasized about
holding that body in his arms, the excitement nearly became intolerable. He
loved her eyes, her beautiful blond hair, her vivid expressions, and the deep,
melodious voice that had at first seemed an unnatural trait in a girl so petite.
As he watched her, she often gazed back at
him, not at all embarrassed or uncomfortable, nor, on the other hand, accepting
of his offer. Surprisingly, she didn't appear the least bit disgusted either.
She stared back at him just as audaciously and unabashedly as he stared at her,
her eyes laughing at him. This unusual reaction was one he was unprepared to
deal with, which only escalated the intrigue of her.
After a while, the conversation drifted
toward Paul, Deia, and Ton and their lives on Earth. Ton was brief in answering
the questions placed to him by Lauria and Miaundea, and the things he did tell
were only generalities. He had learned long before how to evade talking about
his past.
Unlike Ton, Paul and Deia were eager to
talk about the life they had led in Tryamazz with their mother. Eventually the
circumstances involved in their being drafted and the events that had occurred
the day before they had been shuttled to the Sovereign poured out in
vivid detail.
Ton was especially amused that Paul and
Deia believed their mother was the person who had hidden the photograph and
medallion behind the family portrait, probably to prevent King from disposing
of what must have been romantic treasures. But then, of course, that was what King
had intended them to believe.
After Paul and Deia told the entire Sovereign
experience from their point of view, Teren indicated that the D.I.I.'s not
knowing precisely how many helpers he needed to use the spirit dimension
formula had been one of his major strengths.
Ton wanted to laugh. Actually, that had
been Teren's greatest weakness. Perhaps Teren and his father had never given
their surveillants opportunity to discover the number of assistants needed by
not communicating the information to each other except during their simulated
test flying, but Major Zaurvau's Earthon colleagues had been advanced enough in
their knowledge of the formula that they had been able to give King an accurate
estimate. Teren should never have underestimated King in that way, and Ton was
proof of that.
Ton smiled seductively at Miaundea, settled
into his chair, and continued quietly reveling in reliving the events of an
extraordinary seven and a half weeks.
*
Miaundea adjusted the pale green cushions on
her patio chair, then leaned back and lazily stretched her arms and legs. She
had been on the island for an hour and a half, which was apparent from the long
shadow a palm tree was casting over the balcony. The sun had almost dropped
below the horizon, and the sky was an apricot haze. The temperature was warm,
not hot as usual, and the breeze made the humidity more bearable. It was a nice
evening to be outside.
As Deia teased Teren about how little she
really knew about him, Miaundea looked over at Ton and humored him with a
smile. Ton smiled back at her and tempted her with his eyes.
Miaundea had been anxious to meet the Star
Force mentor-doctor who had turned traitor, but she certainly hadn't expected
him to pursue her as a lover. His forwardness was indecent, utterly shameless,
and she knew she should be embarrassed or at least offended, but she couldn't
help it--she loved it.
Of course, she would probably feel
differently if he were anyone else. According to Deia, however, he was exceptionally
brilliant, and he was obviously exceptionally gorgeous! He was, in fact, the
most handsome man she had ever seen, and she could hardly keep herself from
staring at him.
He was medium-height and thin, but his
frame was small, so he didn't appear the least bit gaunt. Unlike Novaunians,
who were all light-eyed and fair-skinned, he was olive-skinned. His hair was
short and black, combed slightly to one side over his forehead, and his face
was striking, with a thick mustache and perfectly-proportioned features. His
lips were full and his eyes were black under lush black lashes and bold black
brows. He possessed an aura of dangerousness that Miaundea found compelling,
and his overwhelming sensuality, so intense as to be forbidden, considered
obscene in any civilized culture, thrilled her, yet repelled her at the same
time.
As far as personality went, he was frank
and vulgar, and everything about him pointed to cynicism. Miaundea deplored
cynicism, and she wasn't surprised that he was generally disliked. Only slight
affection existed between him and Paul, and Teren's mission had necessitated he
get close to him. Miaundea couldn't help but wonder, though, why Deia had
originally been so drawn to him. Miaundea doubted it had been physical
attraction--Deia was too enamored of Teren and apparently had been from the
beginning--but it had to have been something. Oddly enough, the affection both
Deia and Teren now felt toward Ton seemed to be reciprocated.
Miaundea awoke to the conversation as Teren
began telling about being sent to Earth.
"About three years ago, shortly after
Mother died, Miaundea's father approached my father about going to Earth as an
agent under the cover of communications specialist. Since he was the right age,
unattached, and already a telepathy scientist with combat experience, he was
perfect for the job. Not only that, but Minon Sharad wanted two men for the
mission (much safer), and he thought a father and son team would be an
excellent cover. And because of my more technical skills as an engineer, I was
an excellent complement for my father, even though I didn't have much
experience. Minon Sharad also thought he could use my abilities as an athlete
to make me into a dangerous combatant."
Miaundea looked at Teren knowingly.
"No doubt my father has been watching you for years, thinking just that!
That is the way his mind works."
Teren grinned and nodded. "We spent
the next nine months training, then left on a mission that was supposed to last
two years."
Lauria shook her head in amazement.
"All that time, and none of us had any idea what was going on!"
Deia regarded Teren curiously. "What
did you tell everybody?"
"That we were being sent to a research
outpost on the other end of the galaxy and that we wouldn't be in contact with
anyone for a while."
"So what did you do on Earth?"
Paul asked. "Did you and your father find the information you were
searching for?"
"I can't tell you much about what I
did on Earth and why I was sent there, only that my father and I worked in
government-related jobs and that most of my time was spent breaking into
computers. My father, being older, was the one who talked to people. He was an
expert with disguises. Much of what we learned will be released on the galactic
level soon for political reasons, along with your story, so you'll find out
about most of it soon enough. Actually, there's no telling what the publicity
of this incident will do to the galactic situation. It'll be interesting to
see."
Ton raised an eyebrow. "You mean our
coming to Novaun--everything--it's really that big?"
Teren nodded. "Especially when
considered with other pieces of intelligence, information of the nature that
sent my father and me to Earth to begin with."
Deia appeared troubled. "So the entire
galaxy is going to learn about us sooner or later. That means it might get back
to the Sovereign."
"Very likely," Teren said.
"I can understand how the spirit
dimension formula would make a big difference in the galactic situation,"
Deia said, "but I don't understand how Paul and my returning would make
that much of a difference."
"Oh, but it will."
Paul frowned. "Why?"
"I don't know many of the details, and
I'm not sure how much I'm supposed to tell you yet."
Miaundea broke in at this point. "You
will learn everything you ever wanted to know about your family history
tomorrow, probably more than you want to know. I have been working with your
grandfather to put a series of family incidents together into a telepathic
presentation, and believe me, you will realize the importance of your return
after you have assimilated everything."
Deia leaned forward in her chair. "So
can you tell us some of it now? When are we going to meet our
grandfather?"
"Your grandfather wants your family
history presented to you in a specific way, so neither Teren nor I are at
liberty to discuss it tonight, of which I am grateful." Miaundea smiled,
barely. "Tonight should be a happy night. You are here and alive and free,
and all of us are together." She shook her head. "Your family history
is not so happy, and if it were up to me, I would put it off as long as
possible. As for your grandfather, you will meet him tomorrow, right before my
presentation. He prefers to wait until then, because he thinks it will be less
awkward."
Paul and Deia both appeared disappointed,
but they nodded in resignation. Deia hesitated, then asked, her voice barely
audible over the waves breaking on the beach below, "What's he like,
Miaundea? What's our grandfather like?"
"He is dignified and authoritative and
very kind--the perfect high patriarch. He is tall, his hair is white-blond, and
he has beautiful blue eyes, just as you and Paul do."
Teren squeezed Deia's shoulder. "Just
wait, you're going to have all kinds of grandparents and aunts and uncles and
cousins--far more than you ever dreamed of having!"
"That's the kind of life I'll never
complain about." Deia asked Teren eagerly, "Did you have a tight
black suit and mask and everything? You know, to break into buildings at
night?"
Teren laughed. "No, I'm afraid
not."
"You didn't?"
"I never needed anything like that. We
never broke into any buildings."
Deia's excitement diminished into
disappointment. "I rather thought you were a regular Dane Santiano."
Paul smiled broadly. "Yes, you know,
on special secret mission to cleanse the galaxy of evil, ignorance, and the
heathen Diron fleets!"
"You mean the heathen Earth
fleets. He was on Earth, not Diron, remember?" Ton reminded with a smirk.
Paul and Deia laughed uneasily, their
laughter almost immediately dying into expressions of question. They still
wanted to know why Teren and his father had been sent to Earth in the first
place.
Teren's face tensed. "I hate Dane
Santiano, and I hated being an agent. It's stressful and lonely, and people
die."
Rayel's face became somber, and Lauria
closed her eyes and pursed her lips.
"We're so sorry," Deia whispered.
"We're so sor--"
Teren stopped her with fingers over her
mouth and a shake of the head. "This needs to be discussed. Lauria needs
to know what happened."
Deia nodded quickly, her eyes glassy with
tears. The others waited in silence.
Proceeding with difficulty, Teren told the
others about the discovery and testing of the spirit dimension formula and the
events leading up to his father's disappearance two months later.
"I continued going to work, just like
he told me to, but with each day he didn't come home, I grew more anxious. On
the third day, after I got home from work, I received a telepathic
communication from him that said, 'Get out. Cover blown. Royal twins key.'
Almost immediately, I felt his spirit leave, and I knew he was dead."
Teren stopped. Several moments passed, and
he continued in a weak voice, "He endured the Ex-men's torture for three
whole days."
"Your father's informant was Lena,
wasn't it?" Deia's lips trembled, and she put her hand to her forehead.
"I think it's pretty likely."
"If they communicated, then why didn't
she wait for him to rescue her? And us? Why did she have to kill herself?"
Paul shook his head. "Lena was
telepathically bound to Sanel, Deia. All of the evidence points to it. If Lena
knew about Teren's father, so did Sanel. Lena knew better than anyone that
under those circumstances there could be no rescue."
Deia rubbed her forehead. "What she
did wasn't right."
Teren drew Deia into his arms and held her
tightly. "You have to understand. She'd been in your uncle's power so long
that she had no hope left for herself. She obviously did, though, want to
prevent your uncle from using her as leverage to keep you and Paul loyal to
Earth."
"She should have done spirit
expansion with Paul and told him, or tried to take us away--something."
"How can you, of all people, think
that?" Paul cried. "You know better than anyone what kind of man
Sanel is!"
Deia broke away from Teren to turn toward
Paul. "Don't tell me what I know or don't know!"
"She didn't even have enough freedom
to kill him, and you can bet she considered it."
"Only you would have been stupid
enough to try something like that, Paul."
"Well, our mother wasn't stupid. She
knew him better than we do, so stop criticizing her decisions!"
"I'm not 'criticizing' her. I'm just
trying to understand. Too many things still don't make sense."
"You will understand your mother's
motives better after you assimilate my presentation," Miaundea said.
Teren took Deia's hand in his. "In the
beginning, your mother had to keep herself alive. Any attempt at rebellion
would have meant your death and probably hers too, which would've left Paul
completely in the power of your uncle. In the end, she chose to die, because to
remain alive was to betray her planet and her family and everything she loved,
and that she couldn't do."
Miaundea said to Paul and Deia, her voice
reverent, "I wish I could have known your mother. She must have been an
outstanding person. She was a true patriot, a true heroine. All of Novaun will
be grateful to her for a very long time."
After several moments of silence, Paul
asked Teren, "Did your father ever tell you anything else at all about us
besides 'royal twins key'?"
"Father was very secretive about the
whole thing, I assume to protect me, as well as you and Deia and your mother.
Thinking back on everything that happened, I'm certain it was Deia's picture in
the news that put him on your mother's trail. 'Royal twins' didn't mean
anything to me because I didn't know your story. It took me the entire eight
and a half weeks on the Sovereign to figure out who you were."
At that point, everyone wanted to know
everything that had happened to Teren after his father's transmission about the
royal twins. Paul and Deia were most eager to learn how Teren had come to trust
them, and Ton was interested primarily in Teren's capture. The sun had set and
the fog had descended to further darken the sky before the conversation drifted
to the area that most tantalized Miaundea.
Teren detailed how he had come to trust Ton
and explained that he had thought from the beginning that Ton was the most
dangerous of all the cadets he had considered.
Ton, of course, was interested in the
reason. "Why?"
"Because I couldn't figure out what
your motivation was or what your price would be, and I was never sure how much
of you was sincere and how much of you wasn't. I always kind of thought of you
as a very sharp, double-edged sword."
"Whoa!" Paul exclaimed, his face
twisting into a playful grimace.
Ton stared at Teren, wearing a strange
expression, and Miaundea couldn't help but feel that Teren's observation was
completely accurate. "Such a compliment," Ton said with a touch of
sarcasm.
"You asked!"
"And so I did!"
Paul couldn't resist the opportunity for
another playful gibe. "Who says you can't trust a traitor?"
"Paul!" Deia reprimanded. Paul
made a sincere effort to keep from laughing.
"He's right, you know," Ton said,
unconcerned. "I am a traitor, but that doesn't matter. I don't regret what
I did, nor am I ashamed."
"Well, I for one am glad you're a
traitor," Teren said lightly, "because if you weren't, I'd be dead.
So as far as I'm concerned, the matter's closed."
"Why did you come?" Miaundea
asked Ton.
His gaze pierced her to her toes.
"Actually, I'm a spy working for Paul and Deia's uncle."
Rayel, Lauria, and Paul were completely
taken aback. Teren and Deia looked at each other, then at Ton, and laughed.
After a moment or two, Ton began laughing with them. Then everyone laughed
together--everyone but Miaundea.
Miaundea watched Ton carefully in the dim
light of the little globe on the table. Perhaps he wasn't a spy, but he didn't
seem to want anyone to discover his reasons for leaving the Sovereign.
She wondered what he had told her father and how much her father had believed.
She did know that if Ton had lied during his interview, her father would have
known immediately. One did not reach her father's position without being a
shrewd judge of character and situations. (Indeed, an intelligence agent
lacking that discernment didn't usually live long enough to reach her father's
position!)
As Miaundea watched Ton, the laughter
subsided, and he turned his head and studied her without saying a word.
Everyone else on the balcony waited in puzzled silence. At length, she said
with a smirk, "To tell you the truth, Ton, I was not expecting you to give
me such an honest answer."
Ton raised his eyebrows and dared her with
his smile. He had immediately taken her statement for what she had meant it to
be--a call for contest.
When Miaundea arrived at the Novaunian
Intelligence Agency for work the next morning on Sixth Day, she went directly
to her father's office in the Special Cases area. They greeted each other with
an embrace and kisses on the cheeks.
Miaundea's father laughed a little. Since
when did you become conscious before the seventh hour?
Miaundea rolled her eyes. Stop playing
with me. You know why I'm here.
What? Isn't this usually where you work?
He casually seated himself in his overstuffed, white leather chair from Erdean.
This wouldn't have anything to do with an especially enigmatic young man you
met last night, would it?
You do know why I'm here! So, is he a
spy for Jovem Doshyr?
Her father's eyes flickered with amusement.
You tell me.
Miaundea gladly swallowed the bait. I
think Paul and Deia are more likely to be spies than he. Jovem Doshyr had to
get them here somehow, and what better way than through Teren?
That's an interesting theory.
What I can't figure out, though, is why Ton
came to Novaun. He wants everyone to think it was for the money, but that's
precisely why I think it was for some other reason. You talked to him all
afternoon yesterday. You must know.
Her father smiled cryptically. When you
find out, you tell me.
That's no answer!
Her father's
eyes widened in mock offense. I give you a real Earthon boy to study, an
enigmatic one at that, and this is the thanks I get?
Miaundea gave up a smile. At least you could have given me one that is a little more normal. He's so perverse, he's hysterical!
Normal
Earthons do not become traitors. Her father grinned. So, he's already
propositioned you?
His first words to me were, "When am I going to get my official Novaunian welcome?" She burst out laughing.
Her father
nearly laughed himself. Just don't be too severe with him. There is such a
thing as hospitality, you know.
Miaundea placed her hand over her heart in an attempt to gain control over her laughter. Oh, he loves it when I'm hospitable. The problem is, I can't seem to bring myself to be hospitable all the time.
For the first
time that morning, her father appeared worried. Just be careful. He may
start taking you seriously.
Don't worry.
I can handle Ton Luciani.
A dark-haired, sturdily built man about her father's age entered the office. Miaundea greeted him with fingertips touching. She knew the man well. He was Colonel Avenaunta, director of the Home World division of the Internal Security department of the Agency and Maurek's father. Despite her antagonism toward Maurek, her relationship with Colonel Avenaunta was cordial. In fact, all four parents had been embarrassed for years by the conflict between her and Maurek. Now they just ignored it.
Miaundea couldn't help but notice Colonel
Avenaunta's disapproval of her new bright pink crepe dress, although he was
trying hard to conceal it. She looked over at her father, smiling to mask her
venomous feelings. She communicated so that Colonel Avenaunta couldn't
assimilate her thoughts, It's no wonder Maurek's such a prude.
Her father gazed at her gravely. You are
a fool. You misunderstand Maurek.
What is there to misunderstand? He's an
arrogant, domineering prude. She looked from her father to Colonel
Avenaunta on her way to the door. Happy traitor hunting!
*
A little later that morning, Patriarch
Patan Doshyr met Teren in Colonel Quautar's office shortly after Teren arrived
at the Novaunian Intelligence Agency for work. Patan had been anxious to meet
the young man who had returned his grandchildren to Novaun and who was, by all
indications, in love with his granddaughter. Patan wanted to develop a
comfortable relationship with Teren before Paul and Deia were given the
telepathic presentation that night.
Patan knew Paul and Deia's complete states
of mind from information given to him in a private meeting with Colonel Quautar
and two Agency psychologists, and he knew that the presentation would throw all
of their lives into chaos. Patan wanted to prepare Teren as much as he could
for the magnitude of chaos that was coming.
Teren was seriously concerned about Patan's
plan to reveal Paul and Deia's tragic family past to them through telepathy
vision, a method that would allow them to experience the events as though they
were living them.
They aren't ready for that, minon. Deia
has only barely been able to cope with the loss of her career and her mother's
death. But being forced to experience the murder of the sister she never
knew . . . Teren shook his head quickly. That she won't
be able to handle. And Paul. It will destroy Paul.
I feel with an urgency I can't explain
that Paul and Deia need to know their father as he was and feel how much he
loved them and their mother. They also need to know Jovem as he was then if
they are ever to completely forgive him. This is not only necessary for their
own emotional well-beings, but because he has a daughter their sister's age who
lives with her mother in Launarda and who is very much involved with the
family.
King was married?
Patan nodded slowly.
So his
marriage on Earth to Paul and Deia's mother was a sham--in the eyes of God
unlawful.
It wasn't
Lana's fault, Teren.
I know. But
it's just so horrible!
As horrible
as the truth is, it must be faced. In her pensive way, Evelayna has been quite
affected by her father's life. Naturally the reunion between the cousins will
be an awkward and perhaps very painful one for all three of them.
What a
complication . . .
Yes, but perhaps a more serious complication is that once Paul and Deia begin developing their minds to a point where they can function in this society and not feel like isolated outsiders, they will begin remembering, because they were there. This is why they both need to feel the horror of what happened and deal with it now, because if they can't deal with what Mineste Miaundea will give them later today, they will never be able to deal with the other murders they most likely have witnessed.
Teren looked as
though he would be sick. Their father . . . I never even
thought of that.
Now do you
understand?
Perhaps they
won't remember.
Patan
communicated carefully, They must remember, and the sooner the better. They
are our primary key to proving that Sanel King of Earth is indeed my son Jovem
and that he murdered his brother.
But they aren't the only key! There
are other ways to bring Sanel King to justice without making Paul and Deia
remember! It would be cruel!
Patan's heart
was full of sorrow, but with that sorrow was urgency. No one intends to make
them remember anything, but if they are to eventually gain complete
emotional health, especially Paul, then it is imperative that they confront the
tragedy and accept it. Not only that, but without Paul and Deia's testimonies,
it will be impossible to obtain the galactic support we need to extradite King.
Can't he just be brought up on the original
charges? From what I know of his crimes, it seems that our allies will give us
plenty of support, just on the original crimes.
Yes they
would, if Jovem had been tried and convicted and we could prove he and King are
the same person, or if we had legal testimonies of witnesses to the crimes.
Jenan was the only witness to his daughter's murder, and even then, that was
only to the threat. Even though Jovem never went to trial, Jenan's testimony is
on record, but the testimony of a dead man to a threat just won't make much
difference. The twins and their mother are the only witnesses to the
kidnapping, and without their testimonies, the Earthons will claim Lana took
the children to Earth by her own choice.
Teren appeared more troubled than ever. The evidence does point that way, doesn't it?
Patan nodded gravely. Jovem is extremely gifted, a genius if you will, and he is a talented actor and an accomplished librarian. With his extraordinary mind power and discipline, along with his acting techniques, he developed the skill to not only fake his death, but to lie about his essence. It is imperative that he be brought to trial and given up to God to be punished for his crimes. We aren't dealing with an ordinary murderer.
Teren shook his
head. No one can lie about his essence. Even actors--
He was able to fake dijauntu.
Teren stared at Patan, horrified.
He is my son, Patan communicated with difficulty, my own flesh and blood. No one likes this ugly business any less than I do, but to keep more innocent people from suffering, he must not be allowed to escape the ancient penalty this time.
Teren sprang up from the white leather couch he shared with Patan and paced. "There must still be a traitor who can lie about his essence. Someone had to have dug King out of that grave. And what about spies? What is General Larauna having done about the possibility of spies and traitors who can lie about their essences?"
The Agency is
already investigating everyone who has left and returned or who has visited
Novaun in the last twenty years. Anyone with any discrepancies at all will be
immediately placed under surveillance or imprisoned, and until the
investigation is finished, we are restricting our ports. We hope to find any
Earthon spies who may be here before a disaster occurs. As for a traitor,
Internal Security is investigating that possibility too.
Teren breathed deeply and nodded.
Patan arose and
placed his hand on Teren's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. We'll
apprehend King, and Paul and Deia will be fine. All of the necessary Order and
family resources have already been consulted and gathered, and I can assure
you, they will both have all of the love and support and counseling they will
need, and more.
Teren slumped
his shoulders, overwhelmed by depression. Deia will have to go to Menaura
with you for an extended period of time, won't she.
Patan nodded slowly. Even if it won't be so necessary for her, and I'm sure it will be, Paul will need her more during the next few months than he ever has.
Teren sighed bitterly. All this happiness we've both been feeling has been one giant deception. I'd hoped that all of our problems from now on would be little ones, but deep down, I knew we would have a lot to work out once we got here. I knew it the moment Minon Sharad told me they had a sister.
Patan gazed at
Teren sympathetically. Why don't you go back to the island and spend the
rest of the day with Deia. I'll communicate with your commanding officer and
explain. I'm sure that under the circumstances he'll have no objections.
Teren's eyes
regained a touch of their former exhilaration. That would be nice.
No . . . that would be wonderful. Thank you, sir.
*
Ton was lying on a long patio chair in
front of a telepathic transmission recorder on the third floor balcony, his
shirt off and pant legs pushed to his knees, studying, smoking, and basking in
the sun. Teren had arrived at the island several hours before, and he and Paul
and Deia had gone to the beach to go swimming. Lauria and Rayel were exploring
the mansion, not wanting to get out of earshot of Braunen.
A low female voice sounded from the
direction of the French doors. "Polluting the air again, are you?"
Ton didn't turn to look at Miaundea as she
approached him from behind. He drew nonchalantly on his taff. "You know,
for such a little thing, you sure have a big mouth."
Miaundea laughed, then suddenly was silent.
Ton curiously looked up. Miaundea was
standing at the foot of his chair, her eyes wide and staring at his chest. Ton
quickly snuffed out his taff in a cup on the floor and sat up completely.
"So it isn't all just a game."
Miaundea lowered her eyes.
Ton stood up in front of her and lifted her
chin with his finger so that he could look at her directly. Her eyes were
confused, but her cheeks were flushed and she was barely breathing. He leaned
to kiss her. She flinched a little in surprise but didn't pull away. He
encircled her waist with his arms, drawing her close, and she automatically
wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kisses deliriously, her eyes
closed and lips trembling.
A minute later, Ton withdrew slightly and
stroked her hair away from her face. "You are so incredibly lovely."
He kissed her again, then whispered in her ear, "We have thirty minutes,
maybe an hour, before the others come back."
"Thirty minutes is not much
time," Miaundea whispered.
"It's enough."
She smiled dreamily and let him lead her to
his suite. Once they arrived, Miaundea let go of Ton's arm, turned, and began
to walk away.
Ton watched her in puzzlement.
"Where're you going?"
Miaundea turned to face him again, her eyes
flickering sadistically. "I changed my mind. From now on, Dr. Luciani, you
may look, but you may not touch."
Ton stared at her in outrage, then seized
her and threw her against the wall.
Miaundea gazed at him incredulously, almost
laughing. "Let go of me!"
"Oh no. It's time you learn that you
don't offer what you aren't willing to give." He lowered his face to hers
and kissed her hard. Miaundea choked and tried to twist away. After many
seconds of stimulating struggle with Miaundea to keep control of the kiss, Ton
withdrew, victorious.
Miaundea gulped for air and attempted to
wrench away, but her efforts only made Ton more determined. He held her against
the wall, his mouth pressing down on hers again and again as she whimpered and
quivered against him in terror. Finally, he pulled away and laughed.
"You filthy snake!"
Ton laughed even harder.
Miaundea sprang away from the wall in an
attempt to escape, but Ton grabbed her arm and pinned her again. He gave her a
shake. "Why didn't you scream or communicate telepathically to someone for
help?"
She glared at him and set her jaw.
"You would've gone all the way
through with it, wouldn't you have? You would've gladly accepted the shame and
disgrace before you would've ever admitted to anyone that you weren't a willing
participant in the act. And why? Because you can't stand the thought that
someone might discover that there was one time in your life when you completely
lost control."
Miaundea's eyes narrowed, and her cheeks
reddened. She swung her palm at his face, but his hand shot forward and grabbed
her wrist before impact could be made.
"My, you are a proud little thing.
Proud and very, very foolish."
"You are the most conceited,
overbearing, morally degenerate person I have ever met."
"Well then. We understand each other,
don't we?" He softened his hold on her wrist. "I don't understand
your coolness, Miaundea. I thought you liked me."
"Well, I don't."
"Why?"
"Because you are conceited,
overbearing, and morally degenerate."
Ton laughed. "You're conceited,
overbearing, and morally degenerate, and you seem to like yourself just
fine!"
She jerked her arm out of his hand. "I
do not have to listen to this."
Ton seized her arm again. "We're not
done talking yet." He gripped her shoulders and stared down at her
mockingly. "Now. I'm not going to insult the intelligence of either one of
us by addressing the first two qualities. As for being morally degenerate, if I
remember correctly, you were on the balcony a few minutes ago kissing--and only
for a tease--a person you don't even like. I happen to like you. I guess that
makes you more morally degenerate than I am."
She shook her head, her eyes flaming.
"You have a lot of nerve."
He smirked and released his grip on her
shoulders. She turned and walked angrily back to the balcony.
Ton leaned against the wall, more
aggravated than amused. He remained there for a while, trying to decide what to
do. He wanted to be with Miaundea, but he resented her haughty attitude. Why
did the most exciting girls always have to be the ones who were the most
irritating?
He finally decided to go to the balcony.
When he arrived, he found Miaundea lying leisurely in his patio chair.
Anticipation stabbed him. She really was exquisite.
Ton leaned and reached over her for his
shirt, which he had earlier draped over the parapet. He quickly pulled it over
his head and seated himself in a chair next to Miaundea, reaching out and
caressing the back of her hand with his finger. Miaundea pulled her hand off
the armrest of the chair and put it in her lap.
Ton withdrew his hand. "I'm absolutely
certain at this moment that I'm a much bigger temptation to you than you'd like
to admit. And I'm not going to let you forget it."
Miaundea met Ton's gaze with equal
shrewdness. "And I am absolutely certain at this moment that you are a boy
who has absolutely no control of himself." Her smile was touched with
contempt. "And I am not going to let you forget it."
Miaundea's insult offended Ton, but he
chose to ignore it for the moment. He hesitated. "I want to, you want
to . . . so what's the problem?"
Everything was silent except for the waves
crashing on the shore below and the wailing of gulls in the sky. Several
moments passed before Miaundea smiled innocently and replied, "I do not
have a problem. You are the only one who seems to have a problem."
Ton glared at her and said nothing. She
looked away in discomfort.
A little later, Teren, Paul, and Deia
strolled onto the balcony, pink, sandy, and smelling of the ocean. Teren and
Paul were both barefoot and wearing long, ribbed tank tops and baggy trunks
that hung to the lower thigh. Deia was wearing sandals and, under a long white
mesh kimono, a pale pink bodysuit with capped sleeves, a tight, but fully
covering bodice, and a sheer flounce around the waist that hung to the lower
thigh. It was the most ridiculous swimsuit Ton had ever seen.
After the three exchanged cheerful
greetings with Miaundea, Deia exclaimed, "Ton! You should have come too!
It's so hot out, but the water was just cool enough, and we had so much
fun!"
Ton gazed sidelong at Miaundea. Miaundea
ignored him. "That's okay. I'm quite sure I had much more fun here."
Miaundea rolled her eyes condescendingly at
Ton, a gesture that shocked and enraged him. He opened his mouth to blurt
something out, but quickly stopped himself.
Miaundea smiled at him gloatingly, then
stood up and addressed the others. "You three should shower and dress. By
the time you are finished, Lauria and Rayel ought to be back and we can eat.
Minon Doshyr will be here in about an hour, and then I can start the
presentation."
Teren, Paul, and Deia all seemed to think
that was a good idea. They walked leisurely through the French doors, followed
by Miaundea, while Ton remained on the balcony to sulk.
Just as Miaundea had predicted, about the
time Teren, Deia, and Paul were finished showering and dressing, Lauria and
Rayel returned to the third floor for dinner, carrying Braunen in his infant
seat between them.
Paul and Deia chatted gaily as they all
ate, excited that they were finally going to learn their mysterious family
history and meet their grandfather. Miaundea, Lauria, and Teren weren't so
talkative. Ton was even more uncommunicative than the others. He ate his meal
slowly, rarely moving his eyes away from Miaundea.
He had never known a more infuriating,
puzzling girl, or one who had the capacity to attract him so irresistibly. She
desired him as much as he desired her, or did she? He wasn't sure. No. A girl's
heart didn't pound like that when she was teasing. Her body didn't tremble and
perspire like that when she was teasing. She didn't kiss those intimate, yet
tender, saturated with passion kind of kisses when she was teasing. Or did she?
If Miaundea noticed his preoccupation with her, she didn't acknowledge it,
which only intensified his frustration and vexation.
As they were finishing their meal, a
security officer entered the dining room with a distinguished blonde gentleman
who Ton assumed was Paul and Deia's grandfather. He looked about sixty, and Ton
wondered how old he really was. He stood tall and erect, dressed in a pale gray
suit with sharply creased slacks, a short-sleeved tunic of shimmering linen,
satin cummerbund, and, fastened to the shoulder with a sapphire pin, a sturdy
half-vest that fell square on the thigh and had a large, sleeveless armhole.
The collar, cummerbund, and gray-blue half-vest were delicately trimmed with
diamonds and sapphires.
Teren and Miaundea simultaneously arose and
greeted Patan Doshyr with quick embraces. Patan reciprocated the greetings
generously. Then Teren and Miaundea took his arms and led him to the table to
meet everyone else.
Rayel greeted Patan by placing his fingertips
to his and bowing his head. Minon Doshyr, this is a great pleasure. I'm
Rayel Sekura--
Yes! One of the Fleet's most highly
regarded pilots, I understand. It's an honor to meet you, Captain Sekura.
Rayel beamed and put his arm around Lauria,
who was a little awe-struck at meeting such an important person. This is
Lauria, my wife and Teren's sister. Lauria and Patan greeted each other
with fingertips pressed together and bowed heads.
Miaundea knelt beside Ton and gently cupped
her small hands around one of his. She gazed at him for a moment, sweetly,
guilelessly, and with unsettling empathy. Then she bade him with her eyes to
stand up with her, and she presented him to Patan.
Not knowing what else to do, Ton extended
his hand and nodded once. Patan smiled graciously and shook Ton's hand, and Ton
could feel emotions of gratitude emanating from him. I represent all of
Novaun and especially the Doshyr family when I express how grateful I am that
you left your people and your life to come to Novaun, regardless of what your
reasons were.
The patriarch was so kind and so genuine
that Ton was touched. He smiled and mustered all of his emotion in an effort to
transmit an image and feeling of, Thank you. I appreciate that.
Apparently Patan received the image and
interpreted it the way Ton meant him to, for he nodded and squeezed Ton's hand.
Paul and Deia watched their grandfather,
wide-eyed, as he was introduced to Rayel, Lauria, and Ton. They instinctively
moved closer to each other when it was their turn.
Patan gazed at Paul and Deia in tender
recognition. He reached out with both of his hands and delicately touched their
cheeks. Jenan and Lana . . . they're both in you so vividly.
Paul and Deia gazed at their grandfather reverently, also experiencing a form
of recognition.
Unable to contain her happiness, Deia
stepped forward to embrace her grandfather and gently kiss his cheek. Her
grandfather squeezed her lovingly and kissed her forehead. Paul stood aside,
rigid and uncomfortable.
Sensing Paul's awkwardness, Patan patted
his shoulder and communicated, Both of you, come. I would like us to be
alone for a little while before Mineste Miaundea gives the presentation. Teren,
please come too. I may need you to translate. Paul, Deia, Teren, and Patan
walked together to the lobby, while the others reseated themselves and finished
their meals.
Paul appeared in the dining room an hour
later to say that his grandfather was ready for Miaundea to begin the
presentation, and he invited everyone to come and witness it. Rayel and Lauria
politely declined, expressing concern that their presence at the revelation of
such private and tragic family events would make Deia and him uncomfortable.
Rayel and Lauria's action caused Ton to feel as though he had no business being
involved with the presentation either, but he was too curious to decline, so he
arose with Miaundea and walked with Paul to the lobby.
Teren offered his suite to use for the
presentation. Once they had arrived and seated themselves in comfortable
positions, Miaundea communicated privately with Patan. Several moments later,
she nodded quickly and began to speak, her words indicating that Patan had used
the previous hour to learn about Paul and Deia and had told them little, if
anything, about himself and the Doshyrs. She spoke in English, simultaneously
transmitting corresponding telepathic images for Patan.
"As you know," Miaundea said
solemnly to Paul and Deia, "I have been given the charge of presenting a
telepathic family history to you. Your grandfather requested that someone who
has never been involved with your family give you this presentation, because he
feels it would be much too difficult for someone involved to reiterate the
events and emotions without his or her own emotions clouding what actually
happened and what was actually felt at the time.
"For the last two days, I have been
working with your grandfather, several librarians (one of whom is your father's
sister Amburna), and a dramatist in order to compile a series of events that
will help you understand your mother, father, and uncle and the reasons your
uncle kidnapped you. At this point, I feel I must warn you that you will not
only see the events as they occur, you will feel them, as if you are living
them. If you have never experienced what is referred to on Novaun as telepathy
vision, you will probably be overwhelmed at first.
"You will see your father and, at the
same time, be able to feel his thoughts and emotions and will come to know him
intimately because of it, and you will also come to know different sides of
your mother and your uncle. Some of what you learn will please you, and some of
what you learn will trouble you greatly. But you have to remember that your
parents were human beings just as you are, with many strengths of character,
but also with weakness.
"All of the events in this
presentation really happened, some exactly in the way you will see, others,
such as the meeting of your father and mother, very close to the way they
actually happened. Your father was very close to his father, and he
communicated much of what you will see to him, some in telepathy vision, and
some just in feelings, ideas, and images. The experiences that your father
communicated to your grandfather in ideas and images have been adapted into
telepathy vision by your grandfather and the dramatist."
"Now for the facts. Your father's name
is Jenan Doshyr." Miaundea pronounced the "j" in Jenan as
"zh." "He was the firstborn son of your grandfather Patan
Doshyr, high patriarch of the Great House Doshyr of Menaura. Jenan was nineteen
years old when this presentation starts, twenty-one when he met and married
your mother. The man you know as Sanel King is, we believe, your father's
brother Jovem, younger than he by a year. Your mother is the Princess Lanuvael
Vumaul of the Great House Vumaul of Amaria and was eighteen when she met and
married your father.
"To give you a brief history of the
Great Houses, about five hundred years after our Eternal Father created our
world and placed our first parents in Amaria, he ordained a great prophet named
Raynau. Through Raynau, God chose twelve high patriarchs to serve His children
in twelve separate areas of the world, and those high patriarchs were the founders
of the twelve Great Houses. High patriarch is simply the term that refers to
the patriarch who possesses the proper lineage to be the president of the
family organization, and the family organization may consist of one line or
several hundred, depending on the specific family and its needs.
"From that time forth, all government
was with the Great Houses and Councils of Patriarchs. Each community had a
Council of Patriarchs, which consisted of the eldest males of each line. Hence,
the high patriarchs of the Great Houses during this period were literally
kings, and for the most part, they did rule justly for a space of about
thirty-five hundred years.
"It was about four thousand years
after our first parents that the Age of Colonization began. Most families were
separating themselves with distance, taking new vocational opportunities in all
areas of the Union. This dispersing of families quickly reduced the
effectiveness of the traditional tribal rule, and the Great House high
patriarchs were also growing weary of their heavy responsibility with the
rising population.
"Thus, the new system of Councils of
Judges, with the ultimate law being a constitution and one person, one vote,
was adopted. Then as each new world was colonized, it also adopted this system,
and even now, our planetary union is governed the same way. The Great Houses
have not been the planetary government for two thousand years, although each
House even now retains a seat on the home world High Council of Judges.
"The only exception to this is the
Great House Vumaul and Amaria. The high patriarchs of that Great House have
always led and judged with such justness that the Amarian people, in their
elections, have always voted to keep the Vumaul high patriarch as their king,
and the Vumaul high patriarchs have never renounced this responsibility the way
the others did. This is the reason your mother's title was 'Princess,' because
she was the daughter of Patriarch Launs Vumaul, Amaria's king. She was, in
fact, the youngest of forty-three children."
Paul checked a gasp. Deia's eyes were wide
with wonder.
"There is only one more facet of
Novaunian culture you need to understand briefly if you are to understand this
presentation and your uncle's motives, and that is Novaunian business. All
Novaunian business is composed of corporations. Even the smallest companies are
corporations. Each corporation has a charter that dictates the rights of owners
and employees and what percentage of the profits everyone gets, and these charters
are protected by civil law and cannot be changed without the consent of the
members of the corporation and a judge. All of the charters are constructed so
that the employees get a large share of the profits from the beginning, thereby
enabling them to gradually buy out the original investors as their company
thrives completely on its own profits. The oldest Novaunian corporations, such
as the Guild of Librarians, are completely employee-owned.
"The arelada business, however, is
conducted in an entirely different way, in that those who are employed in any
area of arelada production do not own any share of the company that employs
them. All prime territory and companies that mine, process, and market arelada
are owned completely by one of four Great Houses. This is because there is so
much prime territory that needs to be developed, and nearly all of that prime
territory consists of mountainous regions that these four particular Great
Houses have had claim on since the beginning of our civilization. It is the
general consensus that these four Great Houses have the money and expertise to
develop these areas prudently and with high regard to safety, so they continue
to own it all and have assumed the planetary responsibility of developing more
arelada production.
"The Great Houses control every aspect
of arelada mining and development, but it is an act of treason to sell even a
square meter of a mine or prime territory to a foreign investor, and to do so
is punishable by life imprisonment. This was a law passed as an amendment to
our constitution a thousand years ago to counteract a galactic law that states
that once Planet One legally gains control of arelada mines or prime territory
on Planet Two, Planet Two cannot interfere with Planet One's establishment and
administration of mines on said property. (To do so would invite interplanetary
war.) I know this probably seems very confusing right now, but you are Doshyrs,
and soon all of the legalities, intricacies, and politics of the arelada
business will become second nature to you.
"Enough of my exhaustive
lecture." Miaundea tilted her head to the side and looked questioningly at
Patan. "That is enough, is it not?"
Patan smiled and nodded. You did an
excellent job. I couldn't have presented even a portion of that information
nearly as simply or as eloquently.
Miaundea laughed. You are much too
modest, minon. Then she spoke again to Paul and Deia: "I am the
vehicle by which this presentation will be given to you, but your grandfather
will answer your questions when it is over. Now, everyone relax, and open your
minds to me . . ."
A white airbus glided noiselessly in the
noon sun over the Jastray Valley, a long, wide valley that lay in the Launarda
range of the Mountains of Awareness. When the transport was within fifty
kilometers of Jastray, Menaura's capital city, it soared to a greater altitude
and veered to the east over the craggy peaks toward the narrow, secluded, high
mountain valley where rested the small mining town Launarda.
On that airbus was Jenan Doshyr, returning
from a two-week trip to inspect the arelada mines and plants in the Norund
region of northern Menaura. He was a casually elegant young man, tall, strong,
and overflowing with cheerful animation, with lots of pale blond hair like his
father, an affable smile, and under brown brows and lush black lashes,
sparkling gray-blue eyes. He leaned one elbow on the seat in front of him,
communicating gaily with the elderly gentleman who was sitting beside him.
About fifteen minutes later, the airbus
descended into Launarda and eased to a stop on the town's small landing field.
Just as Jenan exited the bus and began walking across the landing field to the
terminal, he scooped up a crying little boy and set him on his shoulders. The
little boy suddenly stopped crying, patted Jenan's head, and giggled, and Jenan
laughed merrily with him, continuing to wave and extend his farewells to those
of the other twenty-five passengers he had met on the flight and in Norund's
port. Once in the terminal, Jenan delivered the child to his mother, retrieved
his luggage, and telepathically summoned an automated taxi to take him home.
Jenan gazed eagerly out the window of the
taxi as it whisked him a hundred meters in the air through Launarda, and, as
always upon returning home after an extended time away, he marveled at the
town's quaint, rustic beauty. Red brick watchtowers, restored many times, stood
at both ends of the valley. Steeply roofed houses, all with chimneys, were
built up the mountains on both sides of the narrow, winding valley and were
nestled in spruces, cottonwoods, maples, and aspens, the red brick and wood
exteriors nearly covered by the heart-shaped leaves and deep blue,
violet-tinged blossoms of the wild patris vine. The red brick walks were hilly
and curving, except in the flattest part of the valley where the major part of
the town was located. Jenan knew that the look and feel of Launarda had changed
little in all of the five thousand years of its existence.
During that time, before the rise of
technology and demand for arelada, Menauran life had been simple and harsh,
boasting little wealth, and had been considered barbaric by the more civilized
regions of the planet in Amaria and the southern areas of Tavon, Verzaun,
Narquasa, and Sakaur. In Launarda, with its peaceful, secluded, rural lifestyle
and unspoiled beauty, lay the very essence of Menaura.
The Doshyr first family had lived in
Launarda and overseen the upkeep of the Launardan estate for several
generations. After Jenan had been born, his parents, knowing they were
approaching the end of their childbearing years, had moved their family into a
smaller, more recently built house on the grounds, preferring to use the
mansion as office space and guest accommodations.
Though large, the Doshyr estate in Launarda
was much smaller and less luxurious than the estates overseen by other branches
of the family in the Jastray Valley and wasn't as much of a tourist attraction
as the others were. Jenan's family occasionally entertained large groups of
people in the mansion, but those events were usually restricted to family
reunions, weddings, and a few parties during the nature-hike season in autumn
and the ski season in winter, when people were more likely to be visiting from
out of town.
Within minutes, Jenan arrived at the
estate, where a robot was waiting at the stairs of the red brick terrace of his
home to take his luggage. To pay for his ride, Jenan transmitted his thought
pattern imprint to the taxi. He then transmitted a telepathic message to send
it back to its origination point and checked InterMind for the time.
Determining he was well ahead of his schedule, he proceeded down a winding brick
path through the trees to the stables.
He stopped for a moment and smiled,
watching his mother as she gracefully led her silver mare from its stall,
preparing to embark on her traditional Sixth Day afternoon ride. She, a
rancher's daughter, was a natural, wholesome beauty, with long, rippling brown
hair, a rosy complexion, and lively gray eyes. Jenan doubted that she looked
much different than she had when his father had met her at an equestrian
contest in Jastray as a young man. With his mother and leading her own horse
was Maranda Vundaun, his mother's closest friend and the daughter-in-law of his
father's head manager, Dryson Vundaun. The Vundauns had been closely associated
with the Doshyr first family over the years and had married into the family
many times. Maranda's children were, in fact, Jenan's third cousins.
Maranda noticed Jenan first in his position
among the trees. She stopped and placed a gloved hand on her hip, her pine
green eyes flickering in that playfully saucy way that was so characteristic of
her. "Hey, young heir!" she called. "Come out of your hiding
place! Don't you know? We warrior-women are merciful to our captives!"
Leaning back, she looked over at Yaulanda (Jenan's mother) and they laughed
merrily together.
Jenan laughed with the women as he jogged
down the path toward them. Hello, Mineste Maranda. He kissed her lightly
on her cheek, then stepped away and studied her for a moment. Your hair's
different. It looks nice.
You become more charming every day,
young man! And why isn't such a pleaser married yet? I happen to know that all
of the eligible young Launardan women are nearly dying in anticipation! Poor
things.
Jenan smiled broadly. But how can I
marry, when in Launarda, I can find no match for your beauty? And he meant
it, too. With her thick auburn hair and flawless skin, Maranda really was very
beautiful--for a woman in her early one hundreds.
Maranda placed her hand over her heart and
sighed. Child, you are just too good to be true!
And it's a pity you have no daughters,
mineste. They would be well worth waiting for. He then spun around, flung his arms around his
mother, and embraced her vigorously, causing her to drop her reins.
Yaulanda laughed and kissed Jenan's cheek. Jenan,
my darling, how was your trip?
Oh, it could have been better, but then,
of course, there's always something going wrong. I hope Jovem's trip was more
successful than mine. What about Jovem? Is he back yet?
Maranda smirked. Well, mention the family boor! Here he comes.
Jovem walked determinedly up the path, gracefully handsome and meticulously dressed as always in a stylish ash blue silk, diamond-trimmed suit. He contrasted sharply with Jenan, who loved to wear neatly pressed denim slacks, hiking boots, brightly colored knit shirts, and suede jackets with no embellishment of any kind. Jovem's hair was the same pale blond as Jenan's, but his skin was fairer, his features were lighter, and his eyes were deep gray. Although he was the same height as Jenan, he was a bit slimmer, and his disposition was much more sedate.
Jovem smiled at
Maranda in a bantering way. It's so gratifying to see my mother taking pity
on the Vundaun trash. He turned and kissed his mother. Hello, Mother,
I've missed you.
Yaulanda smiled lovingly at Jovem and embraced him. And I've missed you too, Jovem.
After Jovem released his mother, he and Jenan simultaneously slapped each other's backs and clasped each other eagerly, beaming at each other in the deepest of brotherly affection.
Arm still around
Jenan's shoulders, Jovem smiled in that bantering way again at Maranda. Some
of us do have to work, you know. It must be nice to just drop everything and
take the whole day off.
Afternoon, Yaulanda corrected with a smile.
I had no idea raising ten little boys was so undemanding, Jovem continued to Maranda.
What I would give to have such a life of leisure, Jenan added.
Maranda's eyes sparkled impishly. I'll gladly trade places with both of you. I could use a vacation! You just name the day. Your father will be so impressed by my work that he'll fire you two and you'll be stuck working for me, as my baby-sitters!
Jenan and Jovem both burst into laughter. Don't you wish! Jenan teased. But he and Jovem knew that Maranda, with her business-geology degree and experience as a former assistant manager of one of the Doshyr mines, really could replace them both.
Once Jovem's
laughter died, he asked Maranda, Are Minon Mays and Brys still planning to
go with us on our run down the Roshaul next week?
And Brandaun and Halaun and Shaun and Gavaun, Maranda was quick to add.
Why, you just can't wait to dispose of them, can you? Jovem playfully accused.
Actually,
you're right. I was serious when I told you I want a vacation. I'm bringing the
little ones to your house, and we'll spend the week with your mother and the
girls.
Jenan shook his
head at Jenan. Can you believe it? The men leave, and the women have a
party!
Yaulanda rolled
her eyes in mild annoyance. I still don't understand why we can't go this
time. I could use a good week on the rapids.
Jenan's
expression was resolute. No, Mother. This trip is for men only, fathers and
sons. Having mothers and little sisters along would spoil everything.
Maranda's eyes
were full of laughter. You think you know so much. She looked slyly over
at Yaulanda. Mays and Patan will be so lonely without us, they'll persuade
the boys to come back a day early!
Jenan and Jovem
shook their heads vigorously. No! Absolutely not!
And I'm so sure we won't be home
early, Jovem asserted, that I'm willing to make a wager.
Maranda lifted her eyebrows and commented to Yaulanda, This is getting interesting. Perhaps Jovem isn't the family bore I thought he was. Yaulanda laughed.
If Father
and Mays want to come home early, as you seem to think they will, then Jenan
and I will watch the boys--
"Me!"
Jenan exploded. Leave me out of this! I don't want to watch those kids!
Mention boors!
Jovem's eyes
flickered temptingly. Then I get to eat all of the toffee Maranda's going to
make for us when we win.
Jenan looked at Jovem uncertainly, then nodded that he was in the bet too.
Yaulanda smiled
teasingly. Toffee? I can make you boys all the toffee you want.
Jovem groaned. Oh, Mother! Don't even suggest it!
Jenan shook his head. Mother, you are the finest rider in the entire Jastray Valley and the most wonderful mother in the whole universe, but unfortunately, you can't cook!
Yaulanda
laughed, but Maranda communicated quickly in Yaulanda's defense, Why boys!
Your mother makes the finest mountainberry pie in all of Launarda!
That's true,
Jovem agreed. But a repertoire of steak and eggs and mountainberry pie does
not make one a cook. And you know how it is with toffee, Maranda. Even Jenan
and I can't get it right, and you know how many times we've tried.
Maranda smiled. All right. If you
stay out the entire six days, I'll make you a double batch of toffee, which
will be ready for you when you get back. Now. I'm anxious to find out what I'm
going to get out of all of this. You'll watch my children when?
For the night
you and Mays will have alone together at the Jastray Inn.
Maranda's eyes
lit up in surprise. Yaulanda quickly asked Jovem, So when exactly does
Maranda get her night out? As the only official witness to this deal, I feel
responsible for making sure all the details are agreed upon and that no one
falls through on his commitment.
If Maranda wins, Jovem replied, then the soonest it could be would be Third Day or Fourth Day after we get back. I have auditions for the week following, so it couldn't be much later. On Second Day night, Jenan and I have a party in Jastray to attend, and since we already have engagements, it's impossible to get out of it.
Jenan looked at Jovem strangely. Who wants to get out of it?
Jovem half-smiled and held his hands back in resignation. Not me, of course. I'm just trying to be cooperative. Jenan laughed.
Maranda eyed the
two with playful skepticism. A party in Jastray? You boys too good for
Launardan girls?
None of the girls in Launarda will go out with Jovem, Yaulanda commented.
That's
because I don't ask them. Launardan girls bore me, and there isn't a girl in
Jastray I've met yet who isn't dying to go out with Menaura's most famous
leading man.
They won't accept engagements with you because you're such an arrogant, ungracious young man, Maranda chided.
Hey! I may be arrogant, but I'm not
ungracious.
Jovem's right, you know, Maranda, Jenan communicated with a nod. All of the girls in Jastray we've met do want to go out with him. And I get all of the gorgeous actresses, so who's complaining? And we can't forget that there is one Launardan girl who would go out with Jovem. Actually, she would probably kill to have an engagement with him!
Jovem moaned. Don't even mention her!
Jenan threw his arms around Jovem and gazed at him dreamily, fluttering his eyelashes in a fawning way. Oh . . . Jovem . . . Jovem! I love you . . . I love you soooo much! How can I ever live without you? You're so, so handsome, so handsome and sophisticated! Oh . . . I'd do anything for you! Jenan released Jovem, and they both burst out laughing.
Yaulanda looked
as though she would be sick. Boys, you're being terribly cruel. Tashaura's a
lovely girl, and very sweet.
Yes, she is, Jenan
admitted. But she's so obvious about how she feels about Jovem she's
disgusting. And she's also a masochist. You would think she'd realize after all
these years that he despises her.
Jovem rolled his eyes in disdainful agreement with Jenan. Yaulanda shook her head at them both, glaring.
Jenan and Jovem
humbled under their mother's glare, and Jenan's expression of meekness actually
appeared genuine. I'm sorry, Mother. I won't communicate cruel things about
Tashaura to you or anyone else anymore, and from now on, I'll just ignore her
attempts to get Jovem's attention.
Yaulanda nodded once at Jenan in
acceptance, then turned to Jovem and waited. Jovem pursed his lips and lowered
his eyes. I'm sorry, Mother.
Yaulanda nodded. All right. Now I think
it's time for you boys to go and report to your father.
Yes, Mother, they replied simultaneously, turning to leave.
Maranda smiled at them both affectionately.
And don't you dare tell your father about the bet, or it's all off.
Jenan and Jovem turned back around and
grinned at Maranda. And you can't tell Mays either, or use that feminine
garbage of yours on him, Jovem playfully warned.
What's fair is fair. I won't waste this
opportunity, believe me. Your father and Mays will make the decision to come
home early completely on their own. Then with a graceful turn, Maranda
slipped a foot into the stirrup and hoisted herself into the saddle. I'll
make the reservation for the Jastray Inn today.
Jovem chuckled. Just be prepared to
cancel it.
Jenan smiled devotedly at his mother. Have
a nice ride.
Yaulanda smiled back at Jenan, then at
Jovem, and mounted her mare.
As the women rode away, Jenan and Jovem
proceeded back down the wooded path to the mansion, communicating lightly as
they walked. They entered the mansion through a back entrance and hurried up to
the second floor, where all of the offices were located.
Their father wasn't in his office and the
door to the adjoining conference room was closed, so they assumed he was in
conference with their uncles and Dryson Vundaun. Jenan and Jovem seated
themselves in their usual places in the royal blue velvet chairs that were
positioned next to the telepathic transmission recorder and waited.
About five minutes later, Patan
telepathically summoned the boys to come into the conference room. As they
entered, they saw Dryson Vundaun, their father's head manager; Cherl and Jaun
Doshyr, their father's uncles and closest aides; and Dauril and Jesaun Doshyr,
their father's brothers and head architect and chief scientist. Embraces and
cheerful greetings were exchanged, and for fifteen minutes, the eight laughed
and communicated about everything but the family's enterprises. Then Patan took
his sons back into his office, while the other men left the conference room to
attend to other business.
Patan quickly resumed telepathic
communication with his absent librarian, and Jenan and Jovem gave their
reports, occasionally using the telepathic transmission recorder to convert
mental images into charts and graphs onto the large screen that covered one
wall.
After an hour and a half had passed and
Jenan and Jovem had completed their reports, Jovem hesitated, then asked, Father,
do you suppose you could take me to Council with you this time?
Jenan was stunned. In only a second, he overcame the initial shock at Jovem's request and looked at his father, his expression pleading frantically for reinforcement.
Patan leaned back in his chair and folded his hands against his mouth, taking his time to respond. When he did, it was with delicacy. Jovem, there should be no reason to even discuss this. You know as well as anyone that I can only have two proxy-counselors. Your Great Aunt Paumala has been a proxy-counselor since before I was born and is the finest judge you will ever know, and Jenan is the heir. He needs the experience now as a proxy-counselor so that he will be confident and competent when he takes the seat.
Jovem's pale face tightened, his gray eyes as sinister as the sky before a blizzard. And why should it be Jenan? Why should he be the heir? I'm the one who's better qualified. It isn't fair. Then he shot a glare so full of resentment at Jenan that it shredded Jenan's heart.
Patan glanced warningly at Jenan and pointed briefly at the door. Jenan frowned, for a moment not comprehending his father's request. Then gripping the armrests of his chair, he forced himself to stand and walk, dazed, out of the office.
Once Jenan had
left, Patan replied calmly to Jovem, On the contrary, Jovem, it's completely
fair.
Jovem's
expression was full of scorn. That's easy for you to think. You're already
the high patriarch.
My being this
family's high patriarch doesn't affect my opinion on this issue. The
patriarchal structure has been the recognized family structure in all Novaunian
families since the beginning of our civilization.
Traditions can and sometimes should be changed.
In some cases yes, but in this
case no, at least not until the structure is clearly being abused by those in
authority. Who is either one of us to tamper with a method of organization that
has been so effective since the beginning of time?
Patan's eyes searched Jovem's lowered face for reaction. Jovem's attitude was softening, however reluctantly.
Patan continued,
If I were to appoint you the heir instead of Jenan, or if he were to
relinquish his seat to you for any reason other than moral unworthiness, then
after my death, you would both witness the complete chaos and division that
would occur in this family as a result of that action, for a large percentage
of the family would still look to Jenan for leadership.
Now as far as
qualifications are concerned, you are no more qualified than Jenan. It is true
that you have achieved a degree of intellectual superiority through your
certification as a librarian. Your individual achievements, however, do not in any
way diminish Jenan's intelligence or anyone else's. Jenan is intelligent and
intellectually capable, as are many who are not librarians, and being a
librarian is certainly not a requirement for the seat of high patriarch. Jenan
is eager and charismatic, a natural leader, and more importantly, he is humble
in accepting this responsibility. He will be an excellent high patriarch.
Patan smiled affectionately. That is, if he can bring that obsessive nature
of his under control a little more.
Patan's final
comment brought a smile to Jovem's lips, though not a smile of ridicule or
contempt, but a smile of love for the brother he knew so well.
If only you could see as clearly as
I can, Jovem. You and Jenan are both extremely talented in your own individual
ways, and there isn't a doubt in my mind that there hasn't been such a powerful
combination of talents in this family for generations. The two of you will
carry this House to heights it's never seen, as long as you don't allow your
resentment of Jenan's position to come between the two of you.
Jovem nodded
quickly. I understand, Father. He hesitated, then admitted soberly, My
feelings haven't changed, but I'll try.
That's about
all you can do for now, isn't it? And I don't suppose any of your uncles would
be opposed to communicating with you if you feel you would benefit from further
discussion.
Jovem nodded thoughtfully, then was suddenly overcome with horror. He sprang out of his chair and in a few long strides was out the door.
*
Jenan left his father's office, his neatly
organized world collapsing all around him. He stepped rapidly across the lawn,
then burst into a run.
In minutes, he was climbing the huge
marnouj tree in front of the mansion and crawling to the little wooden tree
house he and Jovem had built when Jenan was ten. He hoisted himself into the
fort and dropped his head between his knees, engulfed by an awareness of his
inadequacies for the high patriarchate and desolate from a shattered
brotherhood.
Only moments later, he felt emotions of
confidence and love embrace him, and he knew that they were coming from his
father. He accepted the communication gratefully, although he didn't return it.
Jovem has some problems that only he can work out. He is in no way more
qualified than you for the heirship, and his individual achievements don't in
any way diminish your intelligence. You are intelligent and intellectually
capable, eager and charismatic, a natural leader. You will be an excellent high
patriarch when your time comes.
Even as the communication from his father
was ending, Jenan could feel an urgent, Jenan! Jenan! I'm sorry! Jenan
lifted his head and, through the branches of the tree, saw Jovem running from
behind the mansion, looking frantically around the grounds.
"Jenan! Jenan!" Jovem yelled in
frustration. "Where are you? We have to communicate!"
Jenan watched his brother search the
grounds of the mansion and those of the family house, still too immersed in
grief to be capable of receiving the transmissions that were bombarding him.
For some time Jovem entered and exited the
mansion, the house, the stables, the woods around the grounds, and anywhere
else he could think of where Jenan might be secluded. Finally Jovem, near
despair, approached the marnouj tree and peered shamefaced up at Jenan. May
I come up?
Jenan nodded weakly.
In only moments, Jovem was in the tree
house sitting next to Jenan, gazing at him in remorse. I'm so sorry, Jenan.
I've made a mess of everything. Can you ever forgive me?
Jenan lifted his shoulders in the smallest
of shrugs. Why didn't you tell me how you felt a long time ago? Why did you
have to wait until you were full of resentment?
I guess I thought it would go away.
Jovem gazed at the darkening sky. You have to understand. God has given me
so much . . . so many gifts, so much knowledge, so many
opportunities. And I feel as if I can just reach out and have the whole
universe.
Jovem looked again at Jenan, his eyes aglow
with ambition. But then I realize that the heirship is the one thing I can
never have. And I get so angry! So angry that there is one thing that prevents
me from having it all. Can't you understand, Jenan? It's your position,
not you. His gaze softened and he shook his head. Never you.
I guess I'll never understand. The very
thought of being high patriarch completely overwhelms me. More often than not,
I would just like to run.
Neither young man communicated for several
minutes. Finally, Jovem's thoughts flowed into Jenan's. I have to leave for
a few years. I've been considering it for a while, but now I'm sure.
Leave? But why?
Because I'm
not sure I want to work for the family anymore. I'd like to try acting
full-time for a while.
Where will
you go? I didn't think that even Mautysia had full-time theater.
It doesn't.
I've already been accepted into the Latanza III Interstellar Theater Company. I
have to report in Neestian in two weeks. The company will be on Latanza III for
nearly half a year before it goes on tour again.
Several moments
passed before Jenan could absorb everything Jovem had told him. I guess I
should be ecstatic for you. The Latanza III Interstellar Theater Company is one
of the best. That's quite an opportunity.
But you're
not ecstatic for me.
Jenan shook his head slowly. I don't want you to leave. I'll miss you.
Jovem threw his arms around his brother. I'll miss you too.
*
Jovem did leave Novaun, almost immediately,
and Jenan was left to tend Maranda's children. Patan and Yaulanda, in the short
days before Jovem's departure, had attempted to persuade him to wait for at
least a month before he left. They were both uncomfortable with his leaving
Novaun in his current state of mind, and they hoped that after a month, he
would decide not to go at all. Neither believed he could rectify his feelings
toward his family responsibilities while away from his family.
Jenan grieved Jovem's departure most. The
parties weren't the same without Jovem, so Jenan eventually stopped going to
them, and the evenings in his room without Jovem in the other bed were terribly
lonely. For the two years Jovem was away, Jenan devoted himself completely to
his work.
Jovem rarely sent commudiscs to members of
the family while he was gone, and when he did, the communication was vague.
Only twice did he arrange to communicate with his parents telepathically. When
Patan and Yaulanda finally received word that Jovem was returning to Novaun for
good, they were uneasy about how two years touring the galaxy with a foreign
theater company had affected their son.
Patan and Yaulanda's fears subsided soon
after Jovem's return. He was a little aloof but basically the same as when he
had left, although he seemed much more accepting of his position in the family.
He did return, however, an electrifying actor. People came from all over the
Union to see him perform in Jastray.
Several months after Jovem had returned to
Novaun, he and Jenan traveled with their Uncle Cherl to Amaria to oversee the employee-purchase
of a lilcryen mine the family owned there. After a long day of negotiation, the
Doshyr men, along with all of the other men and women involved in the purchase,
attended a formal dinner at Diamond Palace, hosted by Patriarch Launs Vumaul, his
wife Naoma, and their youngest child and only daughter, eighteen-year-old
Princess Lanuvael.
Jenan saw Lanuvael before she saw him. She
was standing in the luminous foyer next to her mother by the entrance of a
spacious sky-blue lounge, greeting everyone who came through the reception
line. She was wearing a pink satin and lace gown that, along with her long,
onyx black hair, was modestly embellished with lilcryens, the opalescent gems
for which Amaria was famous.
So that's the celebrated Princess Lana,
Jovem observed to Jenan as they waited to pass through the reception line. And
I thought she was older. She can't be any more than fifteen. Or maybe it's the
pink. Pink is such a babyish color on a woman.
Jenan continued to watch Lanuvael intently
as he replied to Jovem, Amburna told me that she's eighteen. She looks every
bit of it to me.
Lanuvael turned her head slightly and
noticed Jenan. Her sapphire eyes increased in brilliance, and she smiled, ever
so slightly.
She likes you, Jenan! And she's so
amazingly dignified about it too. I would have expected her to blush and burst
into giggles.
That just goes to show you how much you
know about women!
Jovem laughed, even as their Uncle Cherl
greeted Patriarch Launs and his wife. Cherl had known Launs and Naoma since his
youth and communicated with them easily. Naoma asked him how he liked
babysitting that "boy patriarch," and the three of them laughed
merrily together.
Cherl's conversation with Lanuvael's
parents dragged on for quite a few more tedious minutes, and Jenan didn't think
he and Lanuvael would ever be introduced. Lanuvael's expression indicated that
she felt the same way.
Jovem looked at Lanuvael, then back at
Jenan. This is ridiculous! Jenan, this is Princess Lanuvael, and Princess
Lanuvael, this is my brother Jenan Doshyr. I'm Jovem, but I don't suppose you
care.
This time, Lanuvael did blush. After a
second or two, she smiled at Jovem. I'm glad to meet you Jovem, and thank
you. She focused her vision on Jenan again, and the two gazed at each
other, captivated. Princess Lanuvael is much too tiresome. Please call me
Lana.
All right, Lana. And I'm glad to meet
you. My sisters' descriptions didn't do you justice, and their skinny little
bodies don't do your dress designs justice either! How long have you been
designing clothes?
I'm sure your sisters are lovely! And I've
been designing clothing and jewelry for as long as I can remember.
Cherl's thoughts momentarily interrupted
Jenan's conversation with Lana. I'd like you to meet my nephew's boys, Cherl
communicated to Launs and Naoma. This is Jenan, and this is Jovem.
Lana's parents greeted the boys warmly,
complimenting them on their participation in the day's business dealings and
displaying excessive enthusiasm for Jovem and his reputation as Novaun's finest
young actor.
Jenan's fingers tingled against Lana's as
they were introduced, and he was delighted to learn that she would be seated
across from Jovem and him at dinner. Having little concern for decorum, Jenan
intended to remain with Lana and walk with her to the dining room. Jovem
slipped his arm under Jenan's and pulled him away from the reception line.
Jenan and Jovem waited with their uncle in
the lounge until all of the guests had arrived. Then Launs, Naoma, and Lana led
their guests into a huge dining hall with a gold floor and an artistically
sculpted lilcryen table.
Jenan and Lana communicated all through
dinner, concentrating entirely on each other and eating slowly, as if they felt
they could prolong the dinner and be together longer. As Launs arose and bade
the guests walk with him back to the lounge, ending the dinner, panic
overwhelmed Jenan. He, Jovem, and his uncle would return to their hotel within
minutes and leave Amaria the next day. He doubted he would ever see Lana again.
Jenan and Lana stood up at the same time,
and Lana waited for Jenan to join her on her side of the table. She touched his
arm and smiled up at him. You aren't planning to leave so soon, are you? Why
don't you stay for a while, and we can go for a walk.
That would be wonderful! Jenan quickly explained his plans to Jovem and
Cherl, then left the dining room hand in hand with Lana.
Lana took Jenan on a tour of Diamond Palace
and its grounds. The palace itself seemed to be one giant diamond, with rubies,
sapphires, emeralds, and numerous other precious gems designed among the
diamonds into the walls and cathedral ceilings in ways that simulated the
natural refraction that would occur if the palace had been constructed
completely of diamonds and sunlight was shining through it. Jenan couldn't
imagine the Eternal Father's home in Paradise being so gloriously beautiful.
The palace grounds were equally
magnificent. Jenan and Lana wound their way through gem gardens, sculpture
gardens, and tropical gardens, finally ending up in a flower garden that
overlooked Talavaura and the ocean. They sat down together on a polished white
marble bench and watched the sun fade into twilight over the glittering waves
of the ocean.
Lana rested her arm on Jenan's shoulder and
grazed his cheek with her fingertip. Does it ever bother you that your
brother gets so much attention?
No. Jovem is very talented, and he deserves
all of the attention he gets.
You never get jealous? Ever?
Jenan shook his head. Honestly, I don't.
He doesn't have nearly the singing voice I do, he's terrible at athletics, and
he's terrified to ride a horse. Do you have any idea what it would be like to
live with my parents, the two most avid equestrians on all of Novaun, and be
terrified to ride a horse? I wouldn't trade places with him for a moment!
Lana laughed gaily. I don't suppose I
would either!
Jenan hesitated. You don't like my
brother, do you.
Lana bowed her head.
Jenan lifted her chin so that they were
looking at each other again. It's all right, Lana. I'm just wondering what
your reasons are.
Oh, he's charming enough, and
handsome, I suppose. But there's just something about his eyes . . .
They're so cold . . . and calculating. She shuddered. And
I don't like the way he watches me.
Jenan fought
hard to keep from laughing. Jovem? Cold and calculating? He shook his
head. He is very private though, which might make him seem rather cold to
someone who doesn't know him very well.
That's probably all it is, then.
As Jenan gazed at Lana, memories of that day in his father's office over two years before trickled from his subconscious, and he remembered the resentment and ambition that had been in Jovem's eyes. Was that what Lana had seen? The possibility troubled Jenan. As for the other, Lana had to be imagining things.
What's the
matter?
Jenan almost told Lana everything, but out of respect to his brother, he didn't. Nothing . . . nothing, really.
Lana seemed to
understand that Jenan was disturbed about something he preferred to keep to
himself, so she made an attempt to lighten the conversation. Jenan Doshyr, I
believe I'm jealous! Your brother seems to have your whole heart!
Jenan grinned. Well,
at least ninety-nine point nine percent of it! Lana giggled.
Their laughter quickly died into
expressions of tender longing. Jenan opened his spirit to her as far as was
proper and allowed his rapture to flow around her, and she did the same,
touching her lips lovingly to his. Jenan eagerly drew her into his arms and
clasped her against him, kissing her ardently. Then suddenly, he withdrew,
horror-stricken.
Lana, I'm so sorry! I let my feelings
overcome me. I'm sorry.
Lana's eyes sparkled with happiness. You
did surprise me, I'll have to admit, but what a wonderful surprise! She
kissed him again, lightly.
Jenan's face was solemn. Lana, I love
you. Is that terrible? I know we've only known each other for a few hours, but
I can't help how I feel.
Lana shook her head. No, it isn't
terrible at all. I love you too, Jenan. I think it had to be this way for us.
You would have left after dinner and we would never have had a chance. Menaura
is so far away.
I can't leave yet, Lana. Do you think Minon
Nedul would let you have the next two or three weeks free so that we can spend
some time together?
I think so, but do you think your father
will let you have some time off work?
He'd better! I haven't had more than two
days off at a time for over two years!
Even as Jenan ended his communication with
Lana, he transmitted his thoughts to his father in Menaura. I want to remain
here in Talavaura for a few weeks. I met a girl, Lana Vumaul.
Jenan could feel in his father animation of
spirit, as if he were laughing. Is she as pretty as your sisters think she
is?
Absolutely!
Then go ahead and stay. You certainly won't
be good for anything if you come home.
Jenan smiled at Lana. I can stay as long
as I want.
A little later Jenan went with Lana to the
wing of the palace where she lived, and they spent an hour with her parents.
After Launs and Naoma went to bed, Jenan and Lana conversed well into the
night. When Jenan finally went back to the hotel, he entered his room as
quietly as he could so that he wouldn't wake Jovem.
Jovem, however, was waiting for Jenan. As
soon as Jenan entered the room, Jovem transmitted a thought to turn on the
light and sat up in bed. He smiled broadly. You're staying, aren't you.
Jenan nodded as he sat down on his bed. I'm
going to marry her, Jovem. I knew it when I first saw her, and I think she did
too.
You're betrothed?
Oh, no! Our relationship is progressing
quickly, but not that quickly!
Jovem shook his head in amazement. That's
good, I guess. I'm just having a difficult time seeing whatever it is you think
is so attractive about her. She looks frigid to me! He shivered.
Jenan laughed, feeling relieved. She
probably would be with you! If Lana was wrong about Jovem's
"watching" her, she was, undoubtedly, wrong about the cold and
calculating part too. For once I don't have to worry about you stealing my
girl!
Jovem laughed with Jenan. So, did the
prim little princess let you kiss her?
What do you mean? She kissed me, and it
was wonderful! Jenan collapsed backward onto his bed in exhilaration.
The brothers communicated a little longer
before they turned out the light. Jenan didn't sleep at all that night,
anticipating the next day when he would see Lana again.
Jenan and Lana spent nearly every moment
together for three weeks. They toured Talavaura, went swimming in the ocean,
hiked in the mountains above the palace, and visited Lana's family and friends
who lived in the city. They spend their evenings in the same basic way
Novaunians all over the Union spent their evenings. Second and Third Day nights
were spent quietly in the flower garden enjoying the scheduled entertainment
from InterMind; Fourth Day evenings were spent at parties given by friends;
Fifth Day and Sixth Day nights were spent at plays and concerts; and Seventh
Day nights were spent going to Talavaura's finest restaurants for dinner and
dancing. Eighth Days were spent at the VisionRun complex downtown cheering for
all of the local teams as they competed in VisionRun, and First Days were spent
in religious worship with Lana's family in their home and at Devotional.
They were alone in the flower garden
overlooking the ocean after nearly three weeks together, when Jenan presented
Lana with an exquisite moonstone ring.
"Ohhh . . ." Lana
breathed, holding the ring gingerly. It's so beautiful, Jenan.
Do you recognize the design?
Lana nodded. It's Minon Nedul's, but
where did you get the moonstone? He never designs jewelry with foreign gems
unless someone gives him the gem.
Jovem sold it to me. He brought back
hundreds of moonstones from Gudynea, and he sells them below market price to
anyone who wants them, and he still makes a good profit.
Lana laughed. Your brother! He's quite
the businessman!
Jenan smiled and took the ring from Lana's
hand so that he could slip it on her finger. He looked up and gazed at her,
emotions of love, admiration, and passion gushing from him and surging around
her as a torrent. Lana, I can imagine nothing more wonderful than for us to
be companions forever. Will you marry me?
Lana glowed with happiness. She stroked his
face and hair and softly kissed him, emotions of love and anticipation
caressing his spirit. Yes, Jenan, oh yes! There is nothing in this universe
I want more than to marry you.
Later that evening, Jenan and Lana told
Lana's parents about their betrothal. After a few minutes of discussion, Launs
and Naoma dismissed Jenan from the room with such gravity that he was dismayed.
He had never considered the possibility that they would disapprove.
Naoma sat down next to Lana and embraced
her. Jenan is a fine young man, Lanuvael, and we've grown to love him over
the past few weeks.
Then why would you not want me to marry
him?
It isn't that we disapprove of your
marrying him, Launs communicated
delicately. Quite the contrary. We just feel there are factors in this
decision you haven't considered.
But I've considered everything! I've never
felt more right about a decision in my whole life!
Launs positioned a chair so that he could
sit down in front of Lana and look at her directly. He affectionately took her
hands in his. Jenan has a great responsibility to his family. You know that,
but perhaps you don't understand completely what it means. He will need you to
stand beside him and support him in every way, which means, among other things,
you will never be able to return to Amaria to live without leaving him
completely or causing him to forfeit his heirship. If you marry Jenan, you
will, in a very real way, marry his country too. Menaura is a beautiful country
in its own way, but it will seem like a different planet to you.
But I understand that, Father! Jenan has
shown me his home, and I already love it. And no woman he knows in Menaura
could understand the duties of a patriarch's wife better than I!
Launs smiled. You're probably right
about that.
Naoma stroked Lana's hair away from her
face. We suggest you go to Menaura with Jenan and live with his family for a
while before you make a final decision.
That's a fair enough request. Lana smiled radiantly and jumped up from the
couch. And I would certainly rather go with Jenan when he leaves than stay
here without him! I'll go tell him now, and we'll make the arrangements with
his parents tonight!
*
Lana left with Jenan three days later and
occupied the guest room in his family's home. Lana immediately set up a
workshop in a utility room and continued her apprenticeship with gem artist
Horautij Nedul through telepathy. Jenan reluctantly went back to work himself,
although he accomplished half as much as he normally did. After a cold, snowy
month passed, Jenan and Lana set their wedding date. Lana made all of the arrangements
with her mother through telepathy and traveled to Amaria only once during the
betrothal period. Jenan was so lonely when Lana left that he followed her after
only two days.
The wedding day approached slowly for Jenan
and Lana, but finally, after two months, it did come. Jenan's father, as the
oldest worthy male of his line, holding the office of taurnen in the Adaumic
Authority, performed the ceremony of the Ordination Rite at the house of
worship Lana had attended all her life. He put his fingertips to their
foreheads and ordained them to the roles of taurnel "ordained father"
and taurjra "ordained mother" in the eternal family of God, then put
Jenan and Lana under covenant to commit themselves to each other and God for
eternity.
Jenan dipped his forefinger in a dish of
the sacred nuayem oil, touched his other forefinger, then touched both of his
fingers to her forefingers. They placed their fingers on each other's temples
and felt the warmth of the oil permeate their bodies in symbolism of the
dijauntu. Patan instructed them to hold hands as he embedded the tiny arelada
triangles in their temples that symbolized the eternal triangle, with God at
the top point and Man and Woman at the base points.
An afternoon and evening of festivities
followed the wedding at Diamond Palace. Dinner was served to the families, and
the palace was open for dancing to everyone in Amaria who wanted to come, and
practically everyone did.
As a wedding gift, Lana made Jenan an
exquisite imitation of a family heirloom, an arelada pendant that was inlaid
with diamonds and gold. Jenan and Lana posed for portraits that afternoon in
the flower garden, then after several hours of dancing, left the party and took
an airbus to Shalaun. They traveled the next day to Latanza, where they spent
two weeks in newly married bliss, compliments of Jovem.
After returning to Launarda, Jenan and Lana
finished acquiring furniture for their tiny, two-bedroom home and went back to
their individual educational and occupational pursuits. When Lana wasn't
studying with Minon Nedul, she was creating her home. She fashioned beautiful
plaques, tapestries, and flower arrangements of fine fabrics and gems and
designed and sewed shades, drapes, and bedding.
Jenan and Lana loved their tiny home, and
they enjoyed the moments they spent there together. They also spent many
evenings with Jenan's family, visiting friends, or at the theater in Jastray
watching, spellbound, as Jovem performed. Once they traveled all the way to
Mautysia in Verzaun for the premiere of a play in which Jovem starred with one
of Novaun's most promising young actresses, the glamorous Aulanora Jualaz
Nalaurev. Lana loved to tease Jenan and ask him which actresses he had engaged,
but he never told her. She always had to find out from Jovem.
Three months after the wedding,
Patan conversed soberly with Jenan alone in his office. Your dedication to
your work is about half what it should be. I could overlook your preoccupation
with Lana in the beginning, but you've been married for three months now, and
there isn't any reason your relationship with her should be interfering so
dramatically with your work.
But it isn't!
Jenan protested. And of course I'm getting about half as much done now.
I don't spend nearly as much time at work as I did half a year ago, and if I
remember correctly, you weren't happy about all of those extra hours either!
Patan sighed. No, Jenan, I wasn't, but now you have simply traded one extreme lifestyle for another. Frankly, you're more of a hindrance to the business right now than a help.
Jenan was stunned. So, what is it you want me to do?
I need the
mines in the Solsila region inspected, and I want you to do it. You'll leave
tomorrow morning.
But that's
practically the other side of the planet! And I certainly can't leave Lana for
that long!
Yes, you
certainly can. Lana will be just fine by herself for a week. She seems to have
managed just fine without you for most of her life.
All right, Father, I'll go. Jenan left his father's office, planning to take Lana with him to Solsila the next day.
When Jenan arrived home, he found Lana in her shop, buffing a gold ring she had just broken out of a casting mold. He telepathically turned off the buffing machine and embraced her lovingly from behind.
Lana stiffened. Now why did you have to do that? I'm almost done with this one.
Jenan kissed her neck. I wanted to see you and be with you. You're just too beautiful!
Lana turned
around and smiled. She wrapped her arms around Jenan's neck and kissed him
adoringly, then wriggled away and turned her buffing machine back on. Just
give me fifteen more minutes, then we can have dinner.
Jenan gently
rubbed Lana's shoulders and turned the buffing machine off again. Oh, come
on, Lana. Can't you finish that later? Let's go for a walk. It's too beautiful
an afternoon to be in the house.
Lana turned away
from her work, and this time she was angry. Why do we have to be together
every single second when you're home? I can't get anything done when you're
around, and believe it or not, I have other obligations and interests in this
life besides you! I love you with all my essence, Jenan, but this constant
togetherness is smothering me!
Jenan was devastated. "Fine," he mumbled. Then I'll just leave. He turned and left the house, almost at a run.
Lana realized the anguish she had caused Jenan and was horrified. "Jenan! Jenan! Wait!" she cried, running after him. "Come back!"
But she was too late. By the time she reached the front door, he was gone. Lana waited for Jenan to return home that night, but he never did. The next evening, when he didn't come home from work, she went to his parents' house to see if he was there, nearly hysterical with confusion and grief.
But didn't he tell you? Yaulanda
asked, putting her arm around Lana and guiding her into the living room. Patan
sent him to inspect the mines in Solsila. He'll be gone for a week.
"A week!" Lana gasped.
Oh darling, Yaulanda soothed, a week isn't long. He'll be home before you know it.
A week is an eternity! Lana turned away from Yaulanda and walked quickly to the door. Patan nearly collided with her as he entered, but she didn't notice. Once she had stepped down from the terrace, she ran all the way back to her house.
What was that all about? Patan asked his wife.
Yaulanda shook
her head slowly. I'm not sure, but from what I could understand, Lana didn't
know about Jenan's trip and thought he was gone for some other reason. I think
they might have had a fight.
Well for all
of our sakes, it's about time! Patan replied. Yaulanda hated to agree.
*
Lana tried desperately to communicate with
Jenan during the week he was away, but he refused every attempt. When he finally
did come home, she threw herself into his arms and apologized, weeping. He led
her to the couch and softly kissed her and stroked her hair.
Lana, my love, you have no reason to
apologize. You were right about everything.
Lana shook her head quickly. No, I was
terribly cruel.
No more than I deserved. I should have
been able to feel the dissatisfaction in you long before you ever told me about
it. I guess I didn't want to know. Can you ever forgive me?
Lana squeezed him tightly. Of course.
But why couldn't you have replied to my communications, just once?
I needed the separation, Lana, and I needed
it to be complete. I'm sorry if I made it hard on you, but I didn't know what
else to do.
Lana nodded that she understood.
I missed you so much, Lana. I love you.
I love you too, Jenan. Lana pulled away slightly, her eyes overflowing
with excitement. I have the most wonderful thing to tell you. We're going to
have a baby!
Jenan laughed and hugged Lana again.
*
Jovem walked coolly into his father's
office the next week, responding to an urgent summons.
Patan gravely motioned Jovem into a chair.
Once Jovem sat down, Patan communicated directly, I've just been informed,
Jovem, that Tashaura Selmel is pregnant and that you are the father. Is my
information correct?
This is the first I've learned of it.
Patan inhaled deeply to maintain his
patience. Could it be true?
Jovem shrugged. It probably is.
Patan's face tensed, then turned pale in
anger and disgust. A mistake, I can understand, but your indifference and
complete lack of remorse is deplorable! You go to that girl on your knees and
beg her to forgive you!
I will not! She's an adult woman. She made
the decision to be intimate with me. Why should I be made responsible for that
decision?
Any man who wishes to call himself a man
does not make love to a woman until he is ready to accept the responsibility of
fatherhood!
Jovem stood and glared down at his father. And
why is it always the man's fault! Why can't the woman justifiably take fifty
percent of the blame! Even the fines for the man's family are higher!
Patan stood up to rebuke his son to his face. Your attitude is inexcusable! Whether she's as much to blame as you doesn't matter. Your action concerns many more people than just you, Jovem. It concerns a young woman and her honor and dignity and self-respect, and it concerns a child who hasn't been born, a child who has a right to a stable family life. Proper sexual conduct is your moral and social obligation!
Jovem stood
frozen in anger for several moments before the realization of what he had done
tumbled down on him. He dropped into his chair and bowed his face into his
hands. He didn't communicate for several minutes. When he did, his thoughts
were charged with shame and contrition. I'm sorry,
Father . . . I'm sorry . . . and I'm so scared.
I'll go to Tashi and ask her to marry me.
Patan spent a minute pondering Jovem's present repentant attitude in relation to his previous indifference. He sat down and rested his hand affectionately on Jovem's shoulder. Are you sure you should marry her? Do you love her?
Jovem raised his
head and nodded. Of course I love her. What kind of reprobate do you think I
am?
Patan leaned
back in his chair and studied Jovem's pallid, distorted face. Tell me
something, Jovem. Is she your first?
Yes!
Patan shook his head. I don't
know what to think. I want to believe you're sincere, Jovem, I really do, but
after that display of defiance, I'm finding it extremely difficult. I'm afraid
that in this case I'm not capable of acting as your spiritual advisor. I want
you to go and discuss your problem with your Uncle Cherl, and the two of you
can put things in order with President Denaul.
Jovem nodded and
stood to leave. Patan arose with him and embraced him tenderly. I want you
to be happy. You must believe that.
Jovem laid his
head on his father's shoulder and squeezed him tightly. I know. And I'm
sorry. I won't let you down. I'll make it right, I promise, and I'll take good
care of Tashi and the baby.
*
After leaving his father's office, Jovem
immediately went to Tashaura's home. When Tashaura came to the door, she gazed
up at Jovem's angry face in terror. He took her hand and quickly led her
outside.
You could have at least had the decency
to tell me first! But no! I had to find out from my father!
Tears streamed down Tashaura's face. You
have to believe me--I meant for you to know first--but my physician just told
my parents and they knew it could only be you. What was I supposed to do?
Jovem sat down on the front step, pulling
Tashaura down with him. I guess there's no way you could have helped it.
Come here. He put his arms around her and she wept on his neck.
Tashaura gasped. I just don't know how
this could have happened. I did just what you told me to do.
You obviously didn't do just what I told
you to do!
I tried, I did. I guess I didn't
understand. You still love me, don't you, Jovem? Oh please tell me you still
love me.
"Shhh, shhh . . ."
Jovem whispered. Of course I still love you, Tashi. I'll always love you.
This just means we'll have to get married a little sooner than we had planned,
that's all.
Oh, Jovem . . . we've made
such a mess of everything.
Jovem kissed her ash brown hair. Now
that's enough. He helped her stand. Let's go for a walk, and then we can
discuss the wedding plans with your parents.
*
When Jenan and Lana learned of Jovem's
upcoming marriage to Tashaura Selmel and the circumstances surrounding it,
Jenan was shocked. This isn't like Jovem. Tashaura Selmel, of all people! He
despises her and always has!
Lana sniffed. He never intended to marry
her. After two years of riotous living abroad, several months of celibacy here
must have frustrated him to tears. He took a chance with the girl he thought
was most likely to give him what he wanted, and he got caught.
Lana!
There's only one woman in Launarda he
wants, and it isn't Tashaura.
You have to be the most suspicious person
I've ever known!
No, Jenan. This goes beyond suspicion. I'm
awake and you're asleep. You won't take my problem seriously because it's
easier for you to believe that I'm delusional than that your beloved brother's a
reprobate.
How many times do we have to go through
this? He's not attracted to you in the least.
I know what he told you, and he's a liar.
His pride was hurt when he saw that I was interested in you and not him.
Are you sure it wasn't your pride that was hurt?
Lana refused to be jarred or even stung. He
knows you don't believe me, and he thinks you're a fool. When he watches me,
his eyes laugh.
Lana's certainty unnerved Jenan. Has he
ever made an advance?
No.
Do you think he will?
I only claim to know what he desires,
not what he intends.
Would you mind if I tell Father and get his
advice?
Please!
*
Jenan was afraid that if he didn't act
immediately he wouldn't at all, so for Lana's sake, he went immediately to his
parents' home and communicated privately with his father in his office.
What do you believe, Jenan?
Before today, I thought Lana was paranoid.
After Mother told me about Tashaura, though, I wasn't so sure anymore.
When he "watches" her, what do
you see?
I see Jovem looking at her in that intense
way he looks at everybody. He does seem to be laughing with his eyes, just as
she claims, but he could just as easily be laughing at her suspicions as at my
blindness.
If Lana's claim is true, what are you going
do about it?
Jenan frowned. I don't know. I haven't
thought about it enough to come to any kind of conclusion.
Then you don't believe her claim enough to
give it serious consideration.
No, I guess I don't. Jenan felt frustrated with this understanding,
because he knew that Lana would lose confidence in him because of it.
Patan drummed his fingers on the armrest of
his chair. I don't know what to believe either. Your brother is no angel,
and Lana may very well be right about him. On the other hand, unless he makes
an advance, there isn't much we can do but watch him.
Jenan nodded. Watch and wait.
And keep her out of situations where she
might end up alone with him. If nothing else, such a course will help her feel
more secure.
*
Jovem and Tashaura were married three weeks
later by President Netaun Denaul, the presiding taurnel of the Doshyr first
family's congregation of the Order, quietly in the home of Tashaura's parents.
Because of their moral unworthiness, Jovem and Tashaura were not allowed to
participate in any ordinances during a probationary period of a year, although
they could attend Devotional services on First Day. The most heartbreaking
reality of this probation to both families was that they could not be married
by a taurnen in the Ordination Rite.
During the months following the wedding,
Lana and Tashaura spent many hours of anticipation together preparing for the
births of their babies. Lana loved designing and sewing her maternity clothes
and buying furniture and supplies for the baby. She had completed her
apprenticeship with Nedul Horautij, so she was able to spend that much more
time in all of her preparations.
Tashaura was a young woman of sweet
disposition and overwhelming compassion, and for those reasons Lana greatly
enjoyed her company. She was often disturbed, however, by Tashaura's seeming
lack of ambition for herself. She possessed too much potential to be so shy and
fragile. She sang in the community choir, and Lana knew she had a beautiful
voice, so she encouraged her to sing a solo at an upcoming concert. After weeks
of encouragement from Lana, Tashaura finally agreed to sing when Jenan asked
her if she would sing a duet with him.
Jovem and Tashaura's baby was born first, a
little girl they named Evelayna. Jenan and Lana's daughter, Mara, was born two
weeks later. In a few short months, Jovem and Tashaura were given the ordinance
of the Ordination Rite by Patan, which was a happy day for both families. To
both Patan and Jenan's relief, Lana never complained about the way Jovem
"watched" her again.
During the following months of awe at and
discovery of the new little creations, Lana and Tashaura became the closest of
friends and so did their daughters. Mara grew into a vivacious toddler, fair
and blond-haired, with pale blue eyes full of excitement and a smile that
seemed to cover her whole face. Evelayna, on the other hand, was graceful and
serene, also blond-haired, but with the deep gray eyes of her father.
Nearly a year and a half after Mara's
birth, Jenan came home from work one day and found Lana wandering around the
house, glassy-eyed and trembling.
Jenan drew her into his arms. Lana, my
love, what's wrong?
Lana gasped and wept on his chest, but didn't
answer. Jenan led her to the couch and they sat down together. Mara climbed up
on the couch and squeezed her mother's neck from behind with all of her energy
and compassion. "Ma ma, ma ma," she said softly. Lana cried even
more.
Jenan stood up and quickly scooped Mara
into his arms, carried her to her bedroom, and set her in her crib. He closed
the door to Mara's bedroom behind himself as he went back into the living room
and sat down next to Lana.
Oh, Jenan, I just don't know what
I'm going to do. Tears were still streaming down her face. I just went
to the doctor today, and I found out that our baby is twins.
Twins? Why,
that's wonderful, Lana.
It's
terrible! I could manage one more baby, but two? Lana threw her hands over
her ears and tightened her face in distress. That screaming! Why can't she
stop that screaming!
Just ignore
her. It won't hurt her to scream for a few minutes.
I have to have two more like her? At the same time? I'll have a nervous breakdown. She burst into sobs.
Jenan cradled Lana in his arms and rocked her until her sobs were little sniffles, feeling compassion for her, but feeling more that pregnant women were certainly a strange breed.
We'll manage
just fine with twins, Lana. Where do you think I'll be after the delivery,
anyway? I'll take a few months off of work if I have to, and after that I'll
still be able to help you quite a bit of the time. And what about your mother?
She came to help out with Mara. I'm sure she'll come for the twins.
Lana nodded that she thought she would too and wiped her face with her fingers.
Jenan suddenly looked away. Listen . . .
Lana opened her
eyes wide in curiosity. What?
She stopped
screaming.
Lana relaxed and smiled. She must have gone to sleep.
Jenan kissed
Lana's forehead. Just think of it, Lana. We get to have two babies, two new
little people to get to know. Did you find out what sex?
One of each.
Jenan was delighted. A boy and a
girl! Only this little girl will be dark and look just like you.
The corner of
Lana's mouth quivered, as if she were on the verge of laughing. I really
doubt it, Jenan. Your genes are too strong. It's beyond my comprehension how we
got a blond-haired child to begin with. No one in my family has blond hair.
Then these
children will be dark for sure. Jenan stopped for a moment, reverence
trickling through him. Do you realize what this birth will mean? We're going
to have our first son, the son who will be the Doshyr heir. This little boy
twin will be high patriarch someday.
I didn't even think of that! But he will be. He'll be the heir!
Jenan thought for a moment. We'll name him Braudan. That was the name of the first Doshyr high patriarch, and besides, I like the name. What do you think?
Lana nodded
vigorously. Braudan Launs Doshyr. That would be the perfect name for a
Doshyr high patriarch.
And we'll name our daughter Patrisa.
Lana looked at
Jenan strangely. Wherever did you come up with that name?
From the patris vine that grows all over Menaura. This little girl will have the same color of eyes as the patris flower, just as you do.
Lana laughed
merrily. Oh, you sweet, romantic man! But I want to name her Deia.
Deia? I
suppose that name is all right, but I still like Patrisa better.
Well, we'll
see.
*
Jenan, Lana, and Mara moved into a larger
house a month later, and Braudan and Patrisa were born four and a half months
after that, four weeks premature. Lana's mother came to Launarda to take care
of Lana and the babies for a month, while Jenan took several weeks off work to
entertain Mara. Even after her mother left, Lana's days were spent primarily in
eating, sleeping, and breast-feeding the babies on pillows.
For the first six months following the
delivery, Jenan worked half-days so that he could help Lana more with the
children. Often he would come home from work to a cluttered house and screaming
children, and Lana would kiss him on her way out the door to go shopping,
visiting, or just somewhere to get away from the routine.
After Jenan returned to work full-time,
Lana worked for two months to get all three of her children to take afternoon
naps at the same time. Once she did, she gained two to three quiet hours a day
for working on her gem art. Although she didn't have the quantity of time she
had had in the beginning of her marriage to work on her art, she produced some
of her most touching creations, among them a lilcryen statuette of a mother
with her twin babies.
Mara loved her new little brother and
sister with their fuzzy dark brown hair and eyes like her father's. She
constantly patted their heads and kissed them, and as they grew older, she
loved to roll with them on the carpet and make faces at them to make them
giggle. Dan was the most fun, because he was the biggest, he played the
hardest, and he never cried when she pounded him on the head or knocked him
over the way Trisa did, although she loved to hear Trisa sing, and Trisa sang
all the time.
Braudan and Patrisa loved Mara just as much
as she loved them. Whenever she sat down on the floor, they scooted across the
floor as fast as they could, climbed all over her, and grabbed her long blond
curls, Trisa cheerfully singing, "Da, da--da, da, da--bla, bla, bla, bla."
When
Mara was two and a half and Braudan and Patrisa were nine months old,
affectionately known all over Novaun as the "royal twins," Jenan
spent a grueling two weeks in High Council at Shalaun with his father and Aunt
Paumala. After the Council had been adjourned, Jenan met Jovem on the moon
Taruel to take part in a sale of arelada to three representatives from Vaena.
With the party were also two witnesses, an attorney from Vaena and a judge from
Shalaun.
Jenan went through the motions of the sale
mechanically. All he could think about was returning home to Lana and the
children. He missed them terribly. The bill of sale passed from Jovem, to the
witnesses, then to the Vaenans, each person notarizing the document in his
turn. When Jenan received the document, he read it quickly, then notarized it,
keeping one copy and handing the other to one of the Vaenans.
Even as Jenan handed the Vaenans their copy
of the document, realization suffocated him as he visualized the document
clearly again in his mind and saw that it had been skillfully manipulated to be
a sale of property. He reached frantically for the other document, but the
Vaenan backed away quickly, then turned and calmly left the office, followed by
the other two Vaenans and both witnesses.
Before Jenan could pursue the men and women, Jovem grabbed his arm and
warned, Let them go, Jenan.
But we're being robbed! That document is
really a bill of sale for property! Jenan wrenched his arm out of Jovem's and pulled his brother toward the
door. Why in the galaxy are you just standing there? Come on! We have to get
that document back!
The sale is final, Jenan. Let them go.
Jenan gaped at Jovem in horror and
disbelief, then turned and hurried out of the office after the document. Jovem
followed Jenan out the door, communicating urgently, I have the arelada and
mind power to kill your oldest daughter from right here, Jenan. You will allow
the Vaenans and me to leave this moon unhindered.
Jenan ran down the corridor of the private
office building, communicating angrily back to Jovem, You may be a traitor
and a thief, but you would never murder an innocent child. As he ran, he
summoned Internal Security for help.
Within five minutes, Jenan had retrieved
the document, and Jovem and the Vaenans had been apprehended by Internal and
taken to Taruel's security station.
It wasn't until Jenan had the document in
his hand that panic jolted him. What if Jovem's threat had been sincere? He
immediately contacted his Uncle Cherl in Launarda, knowing his father was
probably not yet home from Shalaun.
Cherl assimilated the story on the way to
Jenan's home to check on Lana and the children. He instructed Jenan to go to
the Internal Security station where Jovem was being held and promised to
communicate Mara's condition to him as soon as he discovered anything.
Jenan took a taxi to the security station.
While he waited for his Uncle Cherl's communication, an officer questioned both
him and Jovem in communication presence of Patan. Jovem didn't volunteer any
information, answering only the questions put to him with evasiveness and
sarcasm. In minutes, Patan and the security officer knew the entire story and
were attempting communication to Cherl in Launarda. Cherl refused communication,
leaving Patan and Jenan frantic with worry.
Meanwhile, Internal Security men led Jovem
to a maximum-security cell to await transportation to Shalaun, where he would
be tried for treason, perhaps murder, by Novaun's Criminal Council of Judges.
Patan arrived in Launarda twenty minutes
later, and he was the one who communicated the dreadful news to Jenan. Mara
is dead. Come home immediately.
Jenan was stunned. It couldn't be true. He
thought he must be dreaming, living a startlingly vivid nightmare. His brother
was his confidant, his devoted friend, his companion in the very deepest of
religious conviction. It couldn't be true.
The mists of the nightmare gradually
dissipated and reality crashed down on Jenan as an arelada mine had crashed down
on three of his grandfathers fifteen years before. It was true. His brother was
a conspirator, a traitor, an apostate, a cold-blooded murderer.
Panic overwhelmed Jenan with regard to Lana
and the twins. Were they hurt? What had they seen? The twins were too young to
understand, but they would remember--someday they would remember. He reached
out to communicate with Lana, but he felt nothing. She didn't reply or even
resist. It was as if she didn't exist.
Jenan ran out of the security station and
took a taxi to the spaceport, where he persuaded a pilot to take him home in a fighter.
Ten minutes later, Jenan jumped out of the fighter on Launarda's small landing
field, then took a taxi home.
Jenan's father looked like a corpse when he
met him at the door of his home. Internal Security men were still in the house
collecting evidence. Jenan tried to push past his father to enter his house.
Patan shook his head slowly and gripped
Jenan's arm. There isn't any reason to go in there. You'll just be in the
way.
But I have to see her! I have to see Mara!
I have to be with Lana and Braudan and Patrisa!
Patan's eyes filled with tears. You
can't see Mara. Cherl and the security team told me that the little person they
found in that bed was not Mara.
Jenan stood as still as the mountains, his
face deformed with shock and anguish. He gasped several times, then sobbed
uninhibitedly. His father very gently put his arms around him and wept with
him.
After crying so hard that his head hurt and
his father's shirt was soaked, Jenan asked, still clinging to his father, Where
are Lana and the twins? Please tell me they're all right.
Patan led Jenan to a taxi and helped him
sit down. Patrisa and Braudan are with your mother, and Lana is in the
hospital.
The hospital!
When Cherl found her, she was on the
floor by Mara's bed, screaming. Cherl believes she saw the whole thing and may
have attempted to fight off the attack. She's been sedated.
When Jenan and Patan arrived at the hospital, Patan helped Jenan out of the taxi and walked with him into the hospital and up to Lana's room, then left him alone with his wife.
Lana was lying in a bed, wearing a white hospital gown. Jenan kissed her, held her hand, and remained with her until she awoke. Not more than thirty minutes later, Patan communicated to Jenan the somber news that, in his grief and guilt, Jovem had telepathically manipulated his body functions to cease and was dead in Shalaun.
After receiving his father's communication, Jenan laid his head on Lana's bed next to her waist and lamented every cruel act Jovem had initiated, his death, and his slaughtering of the guileless, upright person he had once been.
Lana awoke four hours later, screaming, thrashing, and crying Mara's name. It took Jenan and two nurses several minutes to calm her. She stared at Jenan blankly, then glanced around the hospital room in terror.
"My babies!" she shrieked. "Where are my babies?" She sat up and struggled with Jenan and the nurses to get out of bed.
Jenan tightly
restrained Lana from standing. Braudan and Patrisa are all right, Lana.
They're with Mother.
Lana fought to free herself. I want my babies!
A nurse quickly
injected Lana with another sedative and she collapsed into Jenan's arms. Jenan
gently laid Lana back down on the bed, then communicated firmly to the nurses,
I'm taking her home now. She'll be fine, as long as she can be near her
children.
The nurses protested and summoned Lana's
physician, but Jenan was adamant. He communicated to his mother and told her to
take the twins back to his house. Before Jenan left the hospital with Lana, her
physician, Dr. Lymaun, assured him that she would stop by their house later in
the day to examine Lana.
Lana awoke in her own bed screaming, but
once she saw Braudan and Patrisa there in their cribs, she relaxed. Jenan
lifted the babies out of their cribs and tucked them wriggling and cooing into
bed with Lana. She squeezed them tightly and cried softly.
Jenan sat down on the bed with Lana and the
children and slipped his arms around her waist. He laid his head on hers. I'm
so sorry this had to happen. I'm so sorry I wasn't here. But Lana continued
hugging and stroking Braudan and Patrisa, acting as though Jenan weren't even
there.
Devastated, Jenan released Lana and left
the room.
Later that day, Lana's parents and her
forty-two brothers with their families arrived from Amaria. Mara's funeral was
held the day following. Jenan communicated at the service of Mara's love for
others, her excitement for living, and all the joy she had given to everyone
during her short life. Patan then communicated of her peace in Paradise and the
glorious inheritance she would have there with God and members of the family who
had passed on ahead of her. All who attended her funeral sadly mourned her
death, but they were filled with the assurance that she was at peace and the
hope that they would be with her again someday.
Jovem's funeral was held two days later in
Launarda, conducted by Patan. The grief felt by those family members who
attended Jovem's funeral was excruciating, for they knew Jovem's spirit was not
at peace, that he had forfeited his inheritance in Paradise, and that he would
not be a member of the family in eternity.
Tashaura grieved Jovem's death most.
Through the dijauntu, she had given Jovem her essence, and he had given her a
character he had created to exploit her for his physical pleasure. Immediately
following the funeral, she moved in with her parents and didn't leave the house
for weeks. Every time she looked at Evelayna, she thought of Mara and broke
into sobs, which motivated her parents to keep Evelayna away from her as much
as possible during those first weeks.
Melancholy blanketed Novaun as snow
blanketed Launarda all that winter, and the planet mourned the senseless
slaying of a child and the ruin of one of its finest young men. Novaunians
everywhere, particularly Jovem's fans, felt shocked, appalled, angry, and
betrayed, but no one felt as betrayed as Jenan.
Jenan spent months bouncing from anger, to
grief, to guilt that he could have prevented the death of his child had he not
been so concerned about stopping the sale of property to the Vaenans. He also
felt like a fool for not believing Lana's perceptive observations about Jovem
in the first place, and the realization that his brother really had been
leering at his wife all that time shamed and outraged him as much as anything.
Jenan spent the first several weeks after
the funeral at home with Lana, attempting to comfort her and yearning for her
to return the comfort. Lana however, responded coolly and mechanically to his
kisses and caresses and rarely communicated her thoughts and feelings to him in
any way. He knew that she blamed him for Mara's death. Overwhelmed by guilt, he
eventually stopped going near her at all.
Naoma Vumaul remained with Lana and Jenan
for two weeks. Naoma pampered Lana and gradually helped her re-establish her
basic daily routine. Lana was no more communicative to her mother than to
Jenan, but she was more affectionate. Naoma left Launarda extremely worried
about Lana's state of mind but hoping time would bring all of the ugly feelings
to the surface in a form other than tears. A psychologist visited with Lana
twice a week, attempting to attend to her emotional needs, but Lana refused to
discuss the tragedy with anyone.
Lana spent every moment for months with
Braudan and Patrisa. She played with them, read to them, told them stories, and
sang to them in her thin little voice until she was hoarse, rarely leaving the
house and never working on her gem art. She rarely slept at night, but paced
the hall in front of the twins' bedroom. When she did sleep, she often woke up
screaming. She seemed not to eat, becoming emaciated and haggard, more a wraith
than a woman.
Jenan spent most of his waking hours at
work. Often he would come home late and Lana wouldn't even seem to notice. Once
he decided not to go home at all and slept at the mansion. He went home the
next evening and slept on the couch, engulfed with emptiness at the realization
that Lana hadn't missed him.
*
Nearly four and a half months after Mara's
death, Jenan went to his parents in despair.
I don't know what to do. My marriage is
falling apart and I'm a stranger in my own home. Lana doesn't even care that I
exist. All she cares about is Braudan and Patrisa. Sometimes I hate them.
Yaulanda's eyes were glossy with tears. She's
very sick, Jenan. None of us know exactly what she saw that night.
Patan's face was somber. Counselor
Trental recently came to us and expressed her concern that Lana will not
respond to her efforts to counsel with her. She feels she needs to be placed
under the care of a psychiatric physician, and she suggests Dr. Menan Glorbarm
at the Marnouj Canyon Retreat.
Then why didn't she discuss it with me? I'm
Lana's husband! Everyone seems to have forgotten that!
She was afraid you would be too upset by
the suggestion to give it proper consideration, Patan replied. We've recently discussed the
problem with Lana's parents, and they agree that the Marnouj Canyon Retreat may
be a good idea for Lana for a month or two. Your mother and I have been trying
to decide how to present this prospect to you.
Jenan shook his head quickly. No.
Absolutely not! At least not yet. I know about that place. It's where they put
all of those musicians and dramatists who withdraw into their art. He
shuddered. Lana doesn't belong there. She belongs with the children and me,
and if she needs more help than Counselor Trental can give her in our home,
then we'll just find another psychologist who can come to our home.
Yaulanda rested her hand on Jenan's with a
squeeze. Counselor Trental feels that part of the problem is that she needs
a change of environment.
Jenan nodded decisively. That
I can understand, but the Marnouj Canyon Retreat is not the answer. I'm going
to take Lana and the children to Amaria for a while.
No, Jenan, his
father communicated. Absolutely not. Her father forbids it.
But why?
He's afraid she won't ever want to come back, Yaulanda replied.
So he wants
to leave her here to get sicker and sicker! That's about as cruel and heartless
as anything Jovem ever did!
Jenan!
his mother reprimanded. He is your father-in-law!
I'm afraid
Minon Launs is right, Jenan, Patan communicated. Lana needs to learn to
live with the tragedy here, where she belongs.
Jenan stood to leave, expressionless. Then I guess we have no choice. I'll make the arrangements for the Marnouj Canyon Retreat today.
As Jenan walked home from his parents' house, he became angrier and angrier with every step. From the moment of his birth, everyone had unconsciously tried to condition him with the idea that his entire duty and responsibility in life was to be the Doshyr heir and that nothing else really mattered. No wonder Jovem had become so resentful.
Work for the family, Jenan thought in rage. Breathe for the family. Grovel for the family. Lana meant a thousand times more to him than that stupid heirship, and if they had to live in Amaria for the rest of their lives for her to get well, than that was what they would do. Neither his father nor her father would ever dictate to him how he would take care of his family!
Jenan entered his home to find Lana sitting
lifelessly on the couch and Braudan and Patrisa screaming happily and chasing
each other around the house. As soon as the twins saw him, they toddled over to
him and bobbed up and down with their arms in the air. He scooped them both up
and carried them to the couch. He sat down, clutched them to his chest, and
kissed their soft little dark heads. They patted him, kissed him, and cuddled
up to him lovingly.
After many minutes with Braudan and
Patrisa, Jenan set them on the floor to play and scooted over to Lana. Guilt
clenched his heart. He reached out to touch her, trembling. He hesitated, then
finally mustered the courage to touch her cheek and turn her head so that he
could look at her directly.
He laid his hands over hers and embraced
her with emotions of devotion and compassion. Lana, I want us to go and live
in Talavaura for a while just as soon as I can make the arrangements. Would you
like that?
Lana stared at him with those tormented
blue eyes. Finally she frowned. But we can't, Jenan. You need to be here,
and you need me to support you and stay with you.
They've brainwashed her too! Jenan thought resentfully. It's more
important to me that you get well. I should be able to find an excellent
position in Talavaura.
She turned her head away from Jenan and
thought deeply for several minutes. Eventually she turned again to Jenan and
reached out to caress his face. I haven't been much of a wife to you lately,
have I? I'm so sorry, Jenan.
Jenan drew her into his arms and she didn't
resist. It's all right, Lana. Mara's death has been hard on you, and I
understand that. And I know you blame me. I didn't believe you when you told me
that Jovem was watching you, and I let him kill Mara. All I've ever wanted is
for you to let me comfort you. I guess that's impossible.
Lana slid her arms around him
and laid her head on his chest, her body trembling. But I don't blame you.
And I couldn't let you comfort me. Don't you understand? It was horrible, oh,
so horrible! Our beautiful little Mara . . . I just couldn't let
you see.
"Shhh . . . shhh . . ." Jenan soothed. As he kissed and comforted her, all of his anxieties about her recovering emotionally from Mara's death floated away like the pollen of patris in the spring, and he felt like a fool for not understanding the problem sooner.
He tenderly touched his spirit to hers, allowing it to flow around her in a caress. She resisted vehemently. Lana, you have to let me see. She resisted again and shook her head.
He relaxed the
guard on his feelings, and his desolation nearly consumed her. Please, Lana.
I need you.
After a few moments, he felt dizzy--it had been so long. Lana trembled in his arms. His flesh tingled, then burned, and their spirits were one.
The horrors Lana had experienced that night ravaged Jenan at once--the screaming, the poor little body writhing in Lana's helpless arms and begging for help, her innocent little face grotesque with terror and agony, Lana's guilt at not realizing in time to fight off the assault. As Mara's murder became a part of him, Jovem's betrayal and all of the anger, guilt, and anguish Jenan felt became a part of Lana. They clung to each other and cried themselves into headaches and exhaustion, and then they cried some more.
Braudan and Patrisa wept bitterly and climbed all over their mother and father and the couch, frustrated in their search for solace. Finally they slipped to the floor in a weary sleep, red-faced and streaked with tears.
About an hour later, after Jenan and Lana
had withdrawn from each other in spirit, they managed to find enough strength
to discuss their future.
I don't want to go to Talavaura to live,
Jenan. We belong here.
Jenan
agreed. I still think we need to get away, though. How would you like to go
back to Latanza? We could stay at the same resort we stayed at before.
Lana looked at Jenan uneasily. I really
don't want to leave the children.
So we won't. We'll take them with us.
Can we afford it?
We'll just have to! Lana, if you don't want
to go, just tell me!
Lana's eyes widened with a touch of
excitement. I would love to go, Jenan. How long do you think we could stay?
A month or two. But before we go, I'd like
to move to a different house, perhaps one in Jastray. Then when we come back,
we can start all over again.
That's a wonderful idea!
Jenan hesitated. There's just one other
thing. I think we both need counseling. Would you be willing?
Lana nodded slowly. But I want it to be
with my great aunt Gwenavila. She's a psychologist, only I don't think she sees
very many patients anymore. She must be nearly two hundred. I think she might
come stay with us for a while if we ask her. She may even come to Latanza with
us.
Jenan nodded. I think I remember her.
Why don't we ask her right now?
Jenan joined his mind partially to Lana's,
and Lana transmitted their request to her aunt in Talavaura. Gwenavila gladly
replied that she would be in Launarda in two days and that she would stay with
them as long as they needed her.
*
Gwenavila did arrive in Launarda in two
days, and by that time, Jenan and Lana had made arrangements for their trip to
Latanza and were searching for a new house in Jastray.
Before Lana's Aunt Gwenavila arrived in
Launarda, Jenan went to his parents and told them how much he resented their
taking from him his responsibility of providing for Lana's needs. They admitted
he was right and that they were wrong and apologized, promising they would
never interfere again. He also went to Lana's psychologist, thanked her for her
service, and told her never to leave him out of a diagnosis for Lana or any of
his children again. Then with a boldness that surprised and delighted Lana, he
communicated with her parents and expressed his displeasure with them in the
same way he had to his parents. At first they were angry, but once they had a
chance to think about Jenan's complaint and discuss it together, they realized
he was right and apologized.
Jenan and Lana moved to Jastray within a
month, and they counseled with Lana's Aunt Gwenavila every day concerning their
feelings about the tragedy and also concerning ways they could improve their
marriage. In their moments alone, they comforted each other and became
re-acquainted after four and a half long months of separation. Lana remained
melancholy, but she smiled sometimes and slowly regained her beauty as she
began eating and sleeping again.
Two weeks after Jenan and Lana moved to
Jastray, they, the children, and Gwenavila traveled to Latanza for their
much-anticipated vacation. A month and a half later, Patan received a
telepathic transmission from Jenan. We're finally alive again. Lana and I
now have an intimacy that is deeper than anything we could have comprehended
before, and she's stronger and more beautiful than ever. We'll be home in three
days.
Three days passed, and Jenan and Lana
didn't return to Novaun on their scheduled flight. Patan and Yaulanda communicated
with the Latanzan spaceline Jenan and Lana had planned to take to the Novaunian
border planet Bristaun to find out whether they had kept their reservations.
They discovered that Jenan and Lana had, indeed, secured reservations but had
not kept them.
Patan immediately attempted to communicate
with Jenan on Latanza, but was unable to reach him. Within the hour, he
received communication from the Novaunian Embassy on Latanza stating that Jenan
and Gwenavila had been killed in a fire at the resort. No one knew what had
happened to Lana and the children.
Patan didn't remember walking home from the
mansion that morning. When Yaulanda met him at the door, her face suddenly
blanched. Patan, what happened?
Patan managed to drag himself into the
dining room and dump himself into a chair. He stared, dazed, at the polished
wood table. There was a fire at the resort. A freak malfunction of a power
matrix. Jenan and Gwenavila are dead. No one knows where Lana and the children
are.
Yaulanda gasped and dropped into a chair
next to Patan. She held her abdomen with one hand and her face with the other
as she cried and convulsed. Patan hardly comprehended his wife's anguish. The
death of Jenan had demolished him.
Many minutes later, Yaulanda regained a
measure of her composure. She communicated bitterly, Where is the justice?
What have we done to deserve all of this?
*
Patan met Launs Vumaul in Shalaun that
evening and left for Latanza the next day with a team of Fleet officers to
investigate the fire at the resort. He learned that Jenan and Gwenavila had,
indeed, died in the fire, and that Lana had left with the children soon after
on a transport to the planet Searvyo in the Gudynean Federation. A witness at
the resort claimed that Lana was hysterical and that before she disappeared,
she said she had to take her children to a place where "he" would
never find them.
Patan returned to Novaun with Jenan and
Gwenavila's bodies, and Launs and the investigators went in search of Lana.
Many months later Launs returned to Novaun with no Lana, no children, and no
hope.
By all appearances, it appeared that losing
Jenan and Gwenavila had pushed Lana into insanity. Convinced that Jovem had
come back from the dead and killed Jenan, she had gone into hiding to protect
her children. No one in either family wanted to believe Lana could do such a
thing, but there was no evidence to support any other theory and those closest
to Lana knew how unstable she had been since Mara's murder. Investigators searched
for nearly five years before finally giving up, but members of both families
continued to pray that Lana would return to Novaun on her own.
All of Novaun remained in shock for many
months after the accident on Latanza, and for years following, most were
reluctant to discuss the Doshyr tragedies in the vain hope that they could be
forgotten and that nothing even remotely similar would ever befall a Novaunian
family again.
A year had passed since the day had Jovem
had betrayed his family and his planet, and Launarda was again frigid and white
for the winter. For the first time since Jenan's death, the family celebrated,
and the celebration was glorious. Patan and Yaulanda's eighteen-year-old
daughter Eauva wedded Mays and Maranda Vundaun's son Brys, who was the same
age. The wounds had begun to close, but while Patan was alive to know he had no
heir, they would never heal completely.
Brys and Eauva's wedding and Launarda as it
had been sixteen years before slowly faded into Teren's suite as Miaundea
discontinued the telepathy vision, but all of the feelings of horror, betrayal,
and melancholy remained.
Deia sobbed on Teren's chest.
"Lena . . . never . . .
wore . . . pink . . .
never . . ."
Teren held Deia tightly in an attempt to
comfort her, his face pale and his eyes glassy.
Paul sat nearby, clutching the armrests on
his chair, his body quivering in rage. "That son of
Abomination . . . I should have put a knife in his heart. I
should have killed him while I had the chance. It would have been so
easy." He sprang out of his chair and erupted in a scream, "Why
didn't I do it when I had the chance!" He strode to the door, kicking
furniture along the way.
Deia pushed Teren away in panic. She jumped
up and ran after Paul. "He's killed Paul too! I wish we had never come to
Novaun!" And she was gone. Patan arose and followed his grandchildren out
of the suite.
Teren sat paralyzed with devastation.
Miaundea moved to his side. She didn't mean it, Teren.
Teren leaned his head into his hands. Yes
she did.
Miaundea stroked his shoulder. She had
to know. The truth is painful, but so is the not knowing.
Miaundea lifted her head and noticed Ton
sitting in his chair, wearing a peculiar, almost gloating expression. He stood
up and reached for his taffuaos on his way to the door.
Miaundea patted Teren's shoulder. Why
don't you try to communicate with her? She may want you to be with her now.
She doesn't. I would just be in the way.
Miaundea slipped her arm under Teren's and
pulled him up with her. Then come on. Let's go wait for them on the balcony.
Teren nodded and followed Miaundea.
Teren seated himself near Lauria and Rayel,
and Miaundea leaned over the parapet with Ton, coming as close to him as she
could without actually touching him. She wanted to feel just a milligram of the
excitement she had felt that afternoon in his arms.
Feeling her presence so near, Ton
subconsciously leaned to the side to rest his arm against hers. Miaundea was
too thrilled to move aside. "What do you want?" he asked, exhaling
smoke into the sunset.
Miaundea shrugged, her shoulder rubbing his
arm as it moved up, then down. "Company, I guess." Then she quickly
added, "Not that you are such good company. You will do for now, though.
Teren is downright depressing!"
Ton turned his head slightly and looked at
her quizzically. "I'll do, huh?"
Miaundea smiled indulgently. "Well, I
cannot use you for the only thing you appear to be good for, at least not in
good conscience."
Ton drew on his taffuao and chuckled.
The two were silent for many minutes, Ton
deeply inhaling osalaem and Miaundea gazing mesmerized at the waves crashing on
the shore below. "Poor Paul and Deia," she said with a sigh.
"Being controlled by someone as ruthless as Jovem Doshyr for all these
years. It is no wonder Paul hates and fears him so much, especially now."
*
The balcony was still silent and somber two
hours later when Patan appeared and summoned Teren to the lobby. Deia was
sitting in a chair, her eyes bloodshot and her face swollen. Teren knelt down
next to her legs and gingerly touched her hands. "I'll help you through
this, Deia."
Deia's chin trembled. "No. That's what
I want to tell you. I'm going with Paul and Grandfather to Menaura
tonight." She gasped. "Paul needs me now. He's so angry he's
irrational. I just don't know what to do. I'm afraid he's going to try to kill
himself, he's so angry and depressed."
Teren embraced her. "What about you,
Deia, how do you feel?"
"I don't know," she squeaked. She
couldn't speak for several moments. She finally whispered, "I grew to know
and love my father and sister, then lost them in the same breath. It's like
having Lena die all over again, ten times worse. And Paul . . .
I can't bear it if Paul dies too."
Teren held her tightly as she wept. "I
want to be with you through this. I'll come to Menaura with you."
"I wish, oh, I
wish . . ."
"So I will."
"No . . . you don't
understand." She gasped again. "If you come, I'll be with you and not
Paul, and I need to be with Paul."
"It doesn't have to be that way."
"But it will be. You'll wait for me,
won't you?"
"Of course I'll wait for you."
Her voice tightened with panic. "You
won't marry Miaundea while I'm away, will you?"
Deia's comment shocked Teren. "Of
course not! That's as ridiculous as my worrying about you and Paul getting
married!"
"No it isn't. She isn't your sister,
and she's beautiful."
"She might as well be! Deia! You
aren't making this any easier for me, you know that?"
"Why shouldn't I be worried? You're
the one who rejected me for two months!"
"I don't want to marry Miaundea. I
love you. Only you. I'll wait as long as you want me to, as long as I know you
still love me."
"Oh, I do." She stroked his face
and kissed his forehead. "Please walk with me."
"You don't have to go right now, do
you?" he said weakly.
Deia nodded sadly. "Paul and
Grandfather are waiting for me in the aircar." Teren nodded that he
understood, terribly disappointed.
They stood up together and walked slowly to
the aircar. Teren helped Deia into the aircar next to Paul. "Please
communicate or write, or something."
Deia shook her head quickly. "I don't
know . . . I don't know."
The aircar door slid shut, and within
minutes, it and its escort disappeared into the night fog.
*
Paul and Deia arrived in Launarda with
their grandfather the morning of the day they had left Dignitary Island,
exhausted from the telepathic presentation and grief.
Deia sat down at the dining room table in
their grandparents' home with Paul and ate a little bread and fruit. They met
their grandmother, but her features were fuzzy and her personality undefined,
much like a minor character in a dramatization, who steps into the fictional
world once, then fades into the scenery.
Their grandfather led them upstairs to
side-by-side rooms. Deia smelled varnish and paint, as if one or both of the
bedrooms had recently been redecorated. Once the bedroom door closed behind
Deia, she collapsed into the bed.
Deia awoke late that afternoon with a
headache. She looked around her spacious room disoriented, attempting to
capture in her mind the events of the past twenty-five hours. She immediately
remembered the telepathic presentation and her father's death, Paul's
bitterness, and Teren's heartbroken face when he had helped her into the aircar
at Dignitary Island. Tears burned in her eyes, the ache in her breast
deepening.
She rolled to her side, clutching herself.
She tried to imagine Teren sitting next to her on the bed, stroking and
consoling her. She could have borne any sorrow had she and Teren not been
separated.
Somewhat later, she felt gentle fingers
caressing her hair and shoulder. Emotions of love and understanding embraced
her. She opened her eyes and saw, not Teren, but a woman with brown hair that
curled carelessly around her face and fell to her shoulders. She was wearing
pale violet knickers, light gray boots, and a violet satin blouse that had
blunt elbow sleeves and was gathered at the waist with a wide gray sash. She
smelled of broiled steaks and wildflowers.
Deia stopped crying and gazed reverently
into those compassionate gray eyes. "You're my grandmother, aren't
you?" she whispered.
The woman frowned, uncomprehending.
She didn't understand English. Deia
squeezed her eyes shut. "I want to go back to Teren."
The woman seemed to understand the word
"Teren." She communicated in a soothing way, It's difficult to be
separated from one you love so much.
Deia nodded.
The woman continued stroking her hair and
communicated again, I don't understand your speech, but think to me in
images and feelings, and I'll understand.
Deia believed the woman was her
grandmother, but she didn't know how to ask. What could possibly be an image
for grandmother? She thought of Patan and Jenan, then of Sanel. She shook her
head and tightened her face in frustration. Finally she presented an image she
remembered from the telepathic presentation, one of her father smiling
affectionately at his mother as she mounted her horse.
Yaulanda smiled and nodded.
Deia sat up abruptly, overcome with
anxiety. An image of Paul wasn't difficult to create.
I haven't heard any noise from Paul's
room, and I looked in on him a little while ago. I assume he's still asleep.
She patted Deia's shoulder and stood up. Why don't you clean up and come
downstairs and have dinner with your grandfather and me? I've unpacked all of
your clothing and toiletries for you, and the bathroom is across the hall.
Deia nodded that she would. She gingerly
ran her fingers over the white velvet bedspread that was delicately embellished
with rubies and arelada. This bedspread is beautiful! She lifted her
eyes and gazed around the rest of the room. This entire room is beautiful!
This room belonged to your Aunts Eauva
and Dauna. The spread is exquisite, isn't it? Your great, great Aunt Mishela
Vundaun made it years ago. Deia's grandmother walked to the door, pausing
for a moment in the doorway. I'll see you in a little while.
Deia quickly changed her clothes, washed
her face, and brushed her hair, then cautiously went downstairs to have dinner
with her grandparents. Both were on the wood deck outside the dining room,
watching steaks sizzle on a grill. Neither saw her through the French doors.
She walked softly through the bottom floor of the house, peering around
corners.
She kept expecting to see a piano. She
pressed her fingers against the sides of her thighs as if she were playing the
Adagio of Beethoven's "Moonlight" Sonata and listened to the notes in
her mind. That, for the moment, seemed to be the only piece she could remember.
She walked into the living room. Still, there was no piano, no music disc
collections, no instruments of any kind. The entire house was so silent. What
in the galaxy did these people do for music?
Her grandparents' huge living room, even
without a piano, was impressive, decorated in pale blues and purples, with a
window-wall that overlooked Launarda and the mountains. A polished wood china
cabinet stood against one of the walls of the adjoining dining room. It held
dozens of horse statuettes in the top section and engraved crystal dishes and
goblets in the bottom section. Silver-framed photographs of family members
covered another wall.
Deia gazed in wonder at the photographs. So
many people were represented on that wall, all related to her in some way. Her
eyes immediately gravitated to a photo of her father and her uncle as
teenagers, arms affectionately over each other's shoulders, wholesome and
innocent. Her eyes moved to a family picture, then to her uncle's wedding
picture. Deia had never imagined Sanel's having so many people who loved him,
but somehow, he seemed more in place on that wall that she and Paul would be.
She had never felt such a sense of belonging, yet so misplaced and empty.
She gazed for a moment at a portrait of a
tender-eyed woman with a teenage girl. The girl's hair was blond, her skin the
whitest of white, and her eyes pensive and gray. Deia recognized the woman as
her uncle's bride. That meant the girl was her cousin Evelayna. Deia felt sick.
How must the woman feel, knowing her husband had been living with his
sister-in-law on Earth for sixteen and a half years? How must the girl feel,
knowing her father was a traitor and a murderer? That he had murdered a baby
girl her own age? How could a person ever overcome the grief left by that kind
of legacy? Deia suddenly didn't feel so wronged.
She finally rested her gaze on a family
portrait of herself and Paul as babies with their parents and Mara, all five of
them smiling and happy. Jovem's betrayal must have occurred only weeks later.
The French doors opened on the other side
of the room. Deia smiled weakly at her grandparents as they entered the dining
room carrying plates of steaks and strange vegetables that looked like onions
and smelled like potatoes.
Deia immediately transmitted an image of
Paul to her grandparents and looked at them questioningly.
Yaulanda shook her head. Paul is still
sleeping.
I guess that's good. Poor Paul.
He needs to sleep and forget.
Yaulanda nodded sympathetically.
Deia ate dinner with her grandparents, not communicating much until her grandmother asked her how she had met Teren. Deia told them all about Teren, then about her friends on Earth and on the Sovereign. After that, she told them all about her school, activities, piano recitals, and Lena. Eventually she asked about the people on the wall.
After dinner, Deia and her grandparents continued their communication in the living room, gazing out the window at the stars. Novaun was located closer to the galactic nucleus than Earth was, and Deia was amazed at how bright the dense star field made the night sky, especially there in the mountains where the atmosphere was dry and there was no ocean fog. Such a bright night sky wasn't right, and she didn't know if she would ever be able to get used to it.
Paul didn't wake
up at all that evening.
*
Deia awoke the next morning, Seventh Day,
to the dim rays of the sunrise and the wild smell of the outdoors pouring into
her bedroom. Her immediate thought was of Paul.
Deia sprang out of bed and hurried to
Paul's room. His bedroom door was open, and he wasn't there. Panic seized her.
Paul had awakened and, consumed by anger and depression, had left his room to
find a knife or anything that he could use to kill himself. She should never
have left him alone, never! She flew down the stairs to find him.
Deia did not find him in the living room,
kitchen, or study room, nor did she encounter either one of her grandparents.
Finally, in a state of frenzy, she ran outside, the grass damp against her bare
feet. Paul was walking aimlessly in the lawn in front of the mansion, gazing at
the trees, the structures, the rippling orange sky, and the orange-pink
mountains, absorbing his new surroundings. His face was as icy as death.
Deia nearly burst out crying with relief.
She walked quickly over to him and touched his arm. "How long have you
been up?"
Paul turned and gazed at her with tormented
eyes. "Hmmm? Oh . . . an hour or two, I suppose." He
wrinkled his face and put his fingers to his temples. "This
headache . . . it just never goes away."
"Are Grandmother and Grandfather up
yet?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen
them."
Suddenly Paul drew Deia into his arms in a
tense, desperate way. She held him tightly and laid her head against his neck.
His body shook as he fought to subdue the violent feelings that had erupted
within him again.
"Make it stop, Deia," he
whispered. "Make it stop."
Deia anguished with him, but oddly, felt
some relief. He was not incoherent or insane anymore, but weary and engulfed
with anger and hate, despairing, yearning to change but believing he was
powerless to do so.
Eventually Deia said, "Grandmother and
Grandfather told me last night that our other grandparents are coming to
Launarda today and that we'll have a memorial service for Lena."
The ice melted a little. Deia released Paul
slightly, and with arm still around him, led him back to the house.
"Deia?" Paul said as they stepped
onto the red brick front porch.
"Hmmm?"
"Everything we
saw . . . it was true, wasn't it."
"I wasn't sure at first either, but I
am now."
"It hurts so much, like a sword
stabbed in my chest and twisted again and again, but I feel as if I should be
ecstatic instead."
Deia nodded that she understood.
"He was a great man, wasn't he?"
"Yes, he was," Deia said softly.
"We saw Sanel kill him, didn't
we?"
"I hope not. I hope with all my heart
not."
They helped each other through the front
door and sat down at the dining room table. Neither knew what food in the
kitchen was available for breakfast, and neither cared. Paul gazed, mesmerized,
at the family pictures on the wall as Deia, in as perfect detail as she could
remember, told him about those people who were so familiar, yet unfamiliar.
Within thirty minutes, they heard their
grandparents come down the stairs. Deia suddenly felt embarrassed that she was
so rumpled and still in her nightgown. It was so strange living with people she
barely knew. But then they probably felt strange too. To them, she and Paul
probably seemed like ghosts.
Her grandparents entered the dining room as
she stood up and turned to run for the stairs. They both smiled and wished her
and Paul a good morning. Her grandmother kissed her. They were both amiable and
affectionate, as if they had all been meeting together for breakfast every
morning of their lives.
The illusion didn't last long, though. Deia
glanced at Paul and noticed how tense and suspicious he was. Her grandparents
must have noticed it too, because although their communications were kind and
they touched him lovingly on his arm or shoulder, they were careful not to
embrace or kiss him.
A feeling of peace warmed Deia, and she suddenly
felt at home in her grandparents' house. They loved Paul enough to understand
his difficulty at intimacy and to refrain from pushing him into a situation
that would make him even more uncomfortable, and they loved her, earnestly and
completely.
Deia
sat down again and ate a quick breakfast of hard rolls, cheese, and juice
before she went upstairs to bathe and dress. When she came downstairs again,
her grandfather was already back from the landing field with her Vumaul
grandparents. They looked older than her Doshyr grandparents, but they were
extremely elegant and distinguished.
Lena's parents. Paul and Deia couldn't help
but be awed as they were all introduced. Their first meeting with their Doshyr
grandfather had been awe-inspiring enough, but meeting their Vumaul
grandparents was just a little more overwhelming. They had known Lena.
Naoma Vumaul had brought a large chest of
her daughter's possessions from Amaria--clothing, books of family portraits,
jewelry and other gem art, and a diary bound with shiny silver cloth and
daintily embellished with lilcryens. Naoma explained the history of each item,
and at the request of both grandmothers, Deia chose one of the items that most
reminded her of her mother to place in the coffin. She chose a sapphire and
diamond necklace that was very much like one Lena had often worn to her
concerts.
Later that morning, immediately before the
funeral, Paul selected the item that most reminded him of Lena, the tender
lilcryen statuette of a mother with her twin infants.
Lanuvael Doshyr's memorial service began
privately in the graveyard with a prayer by Yaulanda. Each person gingerly
placed his or her chosen item from the chest into the coffin, expressed his
most cherished memories of her, and acknowledged his love. Launs Vumaul placed
his item in the coffin last, concluding with a message of peace and commending
his daughter to her husband, her firstborn daughter, and to God.
After the funeral, Paul and Deia and their
grandparents ate lunch, then spent the rest of the day in the living room
communicating about Lena. Launs and Naoma communicated about her as an
energetic little girl who had grown into an intelligent, accomplished young
woman; Patan and Yaulanda communicated about her as the wife of their son,
elegant and devoted to him beyond expression; and Paul and Deia communicated of
her death and their life with her on Earth, not omitting a single detail. Much
of Paul and Deia's bitterness and grief melted away like the snow in the spring,
while their grandparents' sadness grew as specifics of Lana's life with Sanel
gushed forth.
Launs and Naoma went to bed right after
dinner that evening, exhausted by the time change. Deia helped Yaulanda and
Patan clean up. After the last morsels of casserole and fruit salad were
scooped into storage containers, Deia turned to speak to Paul. He was gone.
Her body tensed in alarm. She transmitted
an image of Paul to her grandparents, and they both shook their heads. She
quickly checked every room in the house. Not finding him, she ran outside,
expecting him to be wandering on the lawn in front of the mansion again. When
she didn't find him there either, panic nearly swallowed her.
Finally, in a burst of inspiration, she
ran across the grounds to the family graveyard. From behind a tree, she saw
Paul kneeling over Lena's tomb in the twilight as if praying, sobbing and
gasping, "I'm sorry . . . I'm so
sorry . . ."
Deia watched him, heartbroken. After a
minute she walked quietly over to him and knelt down beside him, embracing him
in a consoling way.
"What are you doing here?" He
wasn't angry, just curious.
"I was worried about you."
Paul leaned back and sat down on the lawn,
bringing Deia with him. "I don't know why."
"I suppose that's because you're you,
and not I."
"You're afraid I'm going to try and
kill myself, aren't you."
"You wouldn't think that if you hadn't
considered it."
"Well, you don't have to worry about
that." He turned toward her, his eyes wide and desperate. "Don't you
understand? If I kill myself, it means Sanel has won."
Deia nodded slowly, understanding
completely and feeling overwhelmed by relief.
Paul lay back on the grass and gazed at the
stars as they gradually pushed through the waning rays of the sun. Eventually
he said, "We don't belong here, Deia. I don't know where we belong, but it
isn't here."
"I already know where I belong,"
Deia said softly. "In Shalaun, with Teren."
"That's good for you, but what about
me? I want to go back to Earth, but I don't belong there either. What is it
they want from me? To be their heir? I don't want to be their heir. I can
hardly even communicate with them."
"I think they want us to feel as if we
have a history and are part of a family. I felt closer to Lena today than ever,
being with people who knew her and loved her as much as we did. And it made me
feel close to all of our grandparents too."
"They knew just what to do, didn't
they? I'm still in shock. How could they know so perfectly what we needed? I
didn't know what to expect this morning when I woke up and found myself here,
but I didn't expect that."
"I think they knew because that was
what they needed too."
"How long are you going to stay
here?"
"Where? In Launarda?"
Paul nodded.
"I'll stay as long as you need
me."
Ton and Miaundea lounged on the balcony
alone the morning after Paul and Deia's departure, discussing Novaunian
culture. Ton had already become familiar enough with the Novaunian telepathic
language in his study of Novaunian medicine to be comfortable using it, so
Miaundea concentrated on customs. Teren was on the beach with Lauria and Rayel.
"I'm really curious, Miaundea. What is
it you people have against sex? Your father tells me I can't have sex, and that
if I do, I'll have to pay some outrageous fine. What kind of tyranny is
this?"
"Just what makes you so sure you would
even find a woman who is willing?"
"I've found one who'd like to awfully
badly."
Miaundea laughed, her eyebrows rising in a
touch of disdain. "Do not flatter yourself."
Resentment chafed Ton. "You're a
self-righteous little fool."
Miaundea quickly gained control of her
laughter. "And you are an arrogant pervert." She reached for her
glass of water. "No Ton, Novaunians have nothing against sex. They love
sex. They just give it its proper reverence."
"What? They sacrifice it to that great
god marriage?"
Miaundea thoughtfully sipped her water.
"Not exactly," she finally said, setting the glass on the table.
"Novaunians do not worship marriage; they seek intimacy. Marriage is
simply the vehicle by which Novaunians seek what should be the greatest of all
intimate relationships, aside from man or woman to God, and that is man to
woman, woman to man."
"But marriage isn't necessary for that
kind of intimacy."
Miaundea gazed at him knowingly. "And
what you are referring to is not intimacy, but lust--a sham. The intimacy I am
talking about is a devotion and passion that comes from sacrifice and knowing
the other person spiritually and emotionally, not just physically, and that
takes a lifetime, forever, to achieve. Trust and commitment and fidelity have
as much to do with achieving that kind of intimacy as love. We just believe
that commitment and fidelity to one's mate should begin long before marriage,
that premarital and extramarital sexual relations are destructive to intimacy
all-around."
"Not to mention the fact that it's a
sin," Ton caustically reminded.
"And why do you think it is a sin? The
laws of the universe cannot be broken without consequence. God teaches us these
laws for our own happiness and protection."
Ton couldn't help but feel amused.
"That wasn't any deep and meaningful intimacy you were looking for
yesterday. The boy you marry won't have the slightest idea what to do with you.
I can see his tomb. Minon Noble Novaunian . . . died on his
wedding night . . . killed by his bride's lust." He
laughed.
Miaundea's cheeks flushed and her eyes
ignited. She opened her mouth to say something, then immediately closed it.
Ton smirked. "I thought you were a
person who appreciated honesty."
Miaundea glared at him.
"Okay, okay, so you don't kill him. He
never gives you a chance. Oh, you'll satisfy him, all right, but he won't have
any idea what will give you pleasure, and you won't know what you want, to
teach him. The only thing you're going to get out of that farce is
frustration!"
Miaundea was still angry. "Of course
it would not be perfect in the beginning, and it probably would not always be
perfect after that! But I would certainly rather have a few weeks or months of
imperfection and an eternity of intimacy with a man who sincerely loves me than
one or two encounters of lust with a pervert like you!"
"Keep telling yourself that, and you
may start believing it."
Miaundea sniffed. "You are a lot of
talk. I really doubt you are all that great."
"Keep telling yourself that, and you may
start believing it." Ton leaned across the table and said in a low,
seductive voice, "And it would be more than just one or two times."
He leaned forward a bit more, their lips almost touching. "And passion
more exquisite than you can imagine."
"You are addicted to sex."
Ton didn't move a millimeter. "What a
wonderful thing to be addicted to."
"I would not be surprised if you have
some foreign venereal disease--"
"You know what kind of heart-stopping
pleasures I'd teach you, and you're tempted, almost more than you can
stand." He barely touched his mouth to hers. She didn't move a millimeter.
"Munalriec makes your eyes yellow,
your fingernails black, your teeth rot, and your skin fall off." Her tiny
features pulled into a grimace. "And what of when you are old? Your
incredible looks will be gone, and you will be wrinkled and gray and bent.
Women will not be so eager to be with you then. The beautiful young prostitutes
will probably be out of your price range for as often as you will have to have
it--addictions get worse as you get older, I understand--and you may be
incapable anyway."
Ton backed away and stared at her in
horror.
"You will have no parents, no wife, no
brothers or sisters, no nieces and nephews, no children--no one. You
will die of loneliness and no one will even care enough to come to your
funeral. Then after you die, you will still have no one."
Ton jumped up and strode to the balcony.
"Stop it!"
"I thought you were a person who
appreciated honesty."
"Honesty is one thing, brutality is
another!"
"The truth is only brutal to those who
despise or fear it."
"Aren't you the philosopher. How does
a nice little Novaunian girl get to know so much, anyway?"
"Ignorance and sin kill civilization
from within. Ignorance of sin makes a society gullible and vulnerable--easy
prey."
Ton raised an eyebrow. "Spoken like a
true anthropologist. But there's just one thing you seem to want to forget. Sex
is a need."
Miaundea shook her head. "Sex is a desire.
A person can live his whole life, never have sex, and still be perfectly
healthy, physically and emotionally."
Ton grunted. "You've lived a life
without sex, and you're frustrated and warped."
"You have lived a couple of days without
it and you are more frustrated and warped than I am! And you seem to be
perfectly healthy otherwise." She shook her head again. "No, Ton, you
have your needs confused. Everyone needs love and some physical expression of
it--"
"That's what sex is for!"
"Oh, come now! For such a brilliant
person, you are being awfully ignorant! You can and should have intimacy with
people you never have sex with, like your parents, your brothers and sisters,
and your friends. You tell me--have you ever loved or even felt a deep
friendship for any girl you have been with in that way?"
Ton shook his head slowly.
"Well then, if I am right about love's
being the basic need--and I am--then I would say that sex is not doing a very
good job of filling that need for you." She looked at him with eyes full
of pity. "You will die of loneliness."
Being the object of such obvious pity
infuriated Ton, but it troubled him even more. Choosing to ignore Miaundea's
observations until he had more time to think about them, he decided to redirect
the conversation. "It's precisely the intimacy of your culture that allows
you to become prey to a traitor like Jovem Doshyr."
"Your logic is faulty. A traitor like
Jovem Doshyr would make any society cringe. His effect on those around him
would be similar in any other culture. The difference is that traitors like
Jovem Doshyr are rare on Novaun. Your statement supports my position more than
it discredits it."
"No it doesn't. Not even close. Jovem
Doshyr had everyone but Paul and Deia's mother completely duped, and why?
Because everyone had such affection for him that they were unwilling to believe
he could be evil."
Miaundea considered Ton's observation for a
moment. She shrugged slightly. "All right. I will almost concede
that."
"Almost?"
"I don't believe it was the intimacy
of our culture that made us easy prey as much as it was an inability to believe
such evil could exist among us."
"The 'ignorance of sin makes a society
gullible and vulnerable' syndrome?"
"Precisely. And what I find
particularly interesting is that Lanuvael Doshyr, the one person who understood
his true character from the beginning, was, in the end, the only person who was
able to effectively fight him."
Ton nodded thoughtfully. "She was also
the only person he respected enough to want as a permanent companion."
"I had not thought of that, but you
are right."
"So how does your culture bring such
an elusive criminal to justice? Certainly such God-fearing, intimacy-seeking
people wouldn't resort to such an ugly method as assassination."
"No, not assassination. Even if it
were an option, it would be ineffective. The Earthons could put any body in
King's place to receive the shot, and we would be back to where we started,
prey to a criminal we believe is dead."
"So, the solution?"
"We extradite him and he goes to
trial."
"Extradite him?" Ton shook his
head. "He's elusive, remember? Earth won't hand over one of its most
effective leaders through such a weak procedure as extradition."
"I do not doubt you are right,"
Miaundea admitted. "But our government will try that way first. If it does
not work--and you are right, it will not--then I suppose our government will
work to gain the support of our allies and attempt to force Earth to give us
King by boycotting its products and refusing to sell it arelada. Earth would be
able to buy arelada through other sources, but it would be extremely expensive.
This sort of economic suffocation would be slow, but effective. Frankly, I do
not believe King is worth so much to the Earthons now that we know about
him."
"You may be right. Of course, there's
a better way. Hitting them in the bank account would be bad, but hitting them
below the suit sash would be worse. Your father's people should dig up some
dirt on Saint Kravim or some other government figure supposedly above reproach.
Earth would hand King over like that." He snapped his fingers.
"But King may hold information of the
same nature that he would use for his own protection."
"He may. But he isn't capable of
blackmailing the entire government."
"True. And although I do not believe
King is worth as much to them as he was, I do believe he is worth something
while he controls spies that are here."
"But I thought your intimate culture
prevented spies from establishing themselves."
"It does, generally." Miaundea
gazed at him penetratingly. "But it does not immediately bring traitors to
the surface or spies who so innocently and conveniently seek the affection of
their long-lost grandfather."
"Paul and Deia?" Ton exclaimed,
aghast.
"Why not? I cannot believe their
story. Teren was duped. It was all too easy."
"And what, little Ms. Novaunian agent,
makes you so certain Teren was duped?"
"Because the escape was too perfect.
The sort of girl Deia presents herself to be would never have betrayed Teren in
that armed shuttle, even if she had not been in love with him. I know that, and
I barely know her! King has been watching those twins since they were born. I
cannot believe he would have made such an error in judgment."
"King promised Deia that Teren
wouldn't be harmed. He probably thought she would believe him."
Miaundea shook her head quickly. "No.
Deia is an intelligent person, and she knows her uncle's character. King would
have been a fool to think he could trick her with a promise of that kind. King
had always intended to introduce one or both of the twins somehow back into
this culture. What better way than to send them here with Teren? And then there
is the problem of your sister Jacquae's being the plant, as Teren assumes. She
was too risky. If she really is a hypocrite leading an immoral
lifestyle--"
"She is," Ton assured.
"--then there are probably quite a few
young men on that ship that know it. Teren could have seen through her sham
long before he did, which would have made her an even less likely choice for a
helper. King must have known that. That is why it makes more sense to me that
he would have chosen someone more like you--"
"Oh, so now I'm a possibility for a
spy."
"No, I did not say that! Let me
finish! I cannot imagine any possible reason the Earthons would want you here
as a spy. You could not be any use to them; you are too suspect. What I was
trying to say is that you would have been a more likely choice for a plant on
the Sovereign, because everyone already knows you are a snake."
Ton threw his arms up in hopelessness.
"I am sorry, Ton, but that is what
they think of you, is it not?"
"'Son of Abomination' is the correct,
and more derogatory term."
"All right then, they already know you
are a son of Abomination. You could have done anything you wanted and no one
would have been suspicious. Since, however, you would be no good to King here
as a spy, then Paul or Deia must have been the plant all along. Paul is too
obvious. He is the heir, and he is the one who hates King and the Earthon
government. It is only natural that Teren would have suspected him in the
beginning, and it is only natural that he is most suspect now by my father and
his grandfather. Deia, though, is different. She would have been the perfect
plant and she would be the perfect spy now. The Doshyr women are very much a
part of the family involvement in the business and in Novaun's government at
all levels, and she would be capable of doing much damage, perhaps even more
than Paul, since he would be watched more closely by everyone."
"There's one important fact you forgot
in your eagerness to accuse. Deia may marry Teren and live in Shalaun and have
lots of little baby Zaurvaus. A lot of damage she could do to the Doshyrs from
there!"
"But even if they do get married, we
do not know that she and Teren will live in Shalaun. She and Paul are in
Menaura now. Deia may decide she does not want to leave Paul or her newly found
family to live in Shalaun, and Teren, as her perfect cover, loves her too much
to let something as simple as her preference for Menaura destroy their chances
for wedded bliss. He would move to Menaura without a second thought. Then in a
few years, she could find some excuse to leave Novaun, and she would go on with
her career and go back to her Earthon lover."
Ton was appalled. "You're sick!
Utterly deranged! And there's another fact you so conveniently forgot. King
summoned her to his suite and offered her the chance to study with Phillip
Moreau and marry Saint Cadet Vahro-Pierce for Paul's support and Teren's life.
Why in the galaxy would he have done that if she were a spy? Not to mention the
fact that he wanted the spirit dimension formula and certainly wanted to keep
his true identity secret for as long as possible. Sending Deia here with Teren
as a spy would have frustrated both plans."
"Deia says she talked to her uncle,
but how do any of us really know she did? And what if she did? There was
another person there, that D.I.I. agent Daniel Stewart. Maybe she and King were
putting on a show for him."
"But why?"
"I do not know, but it is a possibility.
And as far as the spirit dimension formula is concerned, how do we know King
does not have it? Paul or Deia could have transmitted it to him upon receiving
it, and neither you nor Teren would have known. There was an instant between
the moment Teren gave you the formula and the moment the four of you locked
spirits, was there not?"
Ton's nodded slowly, feeling troubled.
"And King may not care that we know
his true identity. So the Earthons give him to us. So we try him for murder and
treason and any other crimes we can prove he committed. How do we know that the
man on the stand is really Sanel King-Jovem Doshyr? Ton, he can lie about his
essence! You cannot fight against someone who can lie about his essence."
"You need radical brain therapy! What
do you think life is? Some grand melodrama? King misread Deia. He's a human
being. He's capable of making a mistake."
"And you believe that. With everything
you know about him, you believe that."
"Of course I do! He underestimated Paul
and Deia's mother, after all. I would call that a big mistake."
"A mistake he wouldn't have wanted to
repeat. He would have been extra cautious when dealing with Deia."
Suddenly Miaundea's eagerness to find
faults in Deia made sense. "You're certainly going about this with a great
deal of spite. You're just jealous because Teren's in love with her and not
you."
Miaundea's face tightened in shock and
outrage, then after an instant, her expression softened, and she looked at Ton
with eyes full of guilt. "All right. I deserved that."
"You deserved more than that!"
Miaundea sighed and slumped down in her
chair. "All right. I suppose I am a little jealous."
"A little!"
"A little," Miaundea said
commandingly. She continued meekly, "And it is not so much because she and
Teren have feelings for each other." She looked away and absently began
scratching at the table. "I suppose as I was preparing to return to Novaun
after my fieldwork I entertained the hope that when Teren and I met again,
there would be an excitement that had not been there before."
"Was there?"
Miaundea shook her head. When I saw Teren
again, I saw my adopted brother. Deia, though . . . I can
certainly understand why Teren is so captivated by her. She is so perfect she
is disgusting! She is kind, sweet, talented, elegant, and so--" She sighed
again, shortly. "--so incredibly beautiful."
Miaundea's shallow assessment of Deia
amused Ton. "Deia's nowhere near being perfect."
"She is a lot closer than the rest of
us! And she is certainly much closer to a man's idea of perfection than the
rest of us."
"What man's?" Ton said, still
amused. "Teren's? Why should Teren's opinion mean so much to you? He's
your adopted brother, after all, and not your idea of excitement himself."
"No, it is not just Teren."
"Did it ever occur to you that most
men would be intimidated by a woman so seemingly perfect?"
"That is ridiculous. Men may be
misguided sometimes, but they are not so stupid and spineless as that."
"That's what you think."
Miaundea regarded him with surprising
tenderness. "I think that, in your own odd way, you are trying to console
me."
Ton shrugged. "I just don't think you
have any reason to be jealous of Deia."
"I am not, not too much anyway. And
believe it or not, I really like her. For Teren's sake, I hope very much she is
not a spy, but I am still not sure she is not. I will not be sure until she
comes to live in Shalaun."
"When are you going to Menaura?"
"In three days. I will not be there long
though. The Doshyrs are prepared to cope with most of Paul and Deia's
transitional problems."
Ton leaned forward and whispered
mysteriously, widening his eyes, "Maybe you'll actually see Deia make
contact with the traitor, you know, to give him new instructions from her
uncle. Then you can run back here and tell your father, like a good little
agent."
Miaundea rolled her eyes. "You just
love to harass me!"
Ton leaned against the rail and laughed.
Miaundea said defensively, "No one knows
for sure that there is a traitor among the Doshyrs."
"What, did Jovem Doshyr claw himself
out of that grave seventeen years ago? And how did he get off the planet
without anyone knowing about it?"
"That traitor could be long gone, by
now."
"But he isn't, and you know it.
There's no way King would have taken such an effective spy off the planet until
Paul was done with what he was to do here. King had to have had some kind of
plan to monitor Paul and keep him loyal."
"That is assuming King's plan was to
introduce Paul later."
"And it was." Ton looked at her
pointedly.
"Well, between the two of us, Ton, I
feel positive there is a traitor too. I only hope Internal finds him
quickly." She shook her head sadly. "Poor Patan. He gains two family
members, only to learn of another's betrayal."
"It has to be the wife," Ton
said. "She loved him slavishly. He may even control her mind. She'd be the
perfect spy because there probably isn't any way anyone could prove it."
"That is probably true, but I do not
think it is she. Paul and Deia's Aunt Amburna informed me as we were compiling
information for the presentation that Tashaura is a completely changed person.
She even remarried two years ago."
"Well, it couldn't have been the
daughter. She was too young. One of the sisters, perhaps?"
Miaundea's lips parted in a grin of
realization. "You are just as morbidly interested in this as I am!"
"An intriguing puzzle, and full of
possibilities."
"Oh, I know!" Miaundea's
excitement faded to distress. "But I feel terrible! We speculate at
Patan's expense."
"You didn't feel so terrible when you
were speculating at Deia's expense."
"But I know Patan is not a spy. I do
not know Deia is not."
"How many Doshyr sisters are
there?"
"More than thirty. Six were born after
Jenan and Jovem. And it could very well be one of them. At least three of the
younger ones were old enough. In fact one, Eauva, is a judge and one of Patan's
proxy-counselors."
"Do proxy-counselors do business off
planet?"
Miaundea shook her head. "That is the
primary reason I do not believe any of the sisters are the traitor; they all
stay close to home. I feel it must be a business counselor of Patan's. Someone
who does do business off the planet regularly. There are at least ten
possibilities there, and all very close to Patan. At least three of them are
men from the Vundaun family, many are cousins, and at least ten are his
sons-in-law."
Ton nodded and lit a taff, sitting down.
"I suppose someone in that position would have more to gain, and he'd also
have quite a lot of freedom. He'd also be the most likely to avoid getting
caught." He drew deeply on his taff.
"Not necessarily. If he has left
evidence all over the galaxy, he may be easier to track down. And if he was not
away from the planet when our ports were restricted, then he is a sitting
target. He cannot run, he cannot try to destroy any evidence, he cannot do
anything but wait and hope that another person is implicated."
"But he may try to point the evidence
toward another person."
Miaundea shook her head. "This traitor
is smart. Patan and Internal will be watching for that, and he would be suspect
immediately. No, all he can do is wait."
Ton grunted. "Wait for the kill. A
sitting target."
The French doors opened; Ton and Miaundea
stopped talking and looked to see who was there. They watched in puzzlement as
Miaundea's father and a small, white-haired man approached them.
"I didn't know your father was going
to be here today," Ton whispered, lifting his taff to his lips.
Miaundea shook her head. "Neither did
I."
Colonel Quautar's expression was one of
relief and satisfaction; his partner's was one of guarded eagerness. Colonel
Quautar communicated, Dr. Hovaus, I'd like you to meet my daughter Miaundea
and Dr. Ton Luciani.
Understanding immediately that this visitor
was for him, Ton snuffed out his taff in a cup, stood up, and extended his
hand. Miaundea stood up and bowed her head slightly at Dr. Hovaus, then moved
toward her father.
Ton, this is Dr. Morlel Hovaus of the
Shalaun Medical Academy. He wishes to communicate with you about a position as
an apprentice neurophysician.
A specialized position already? Ton motioned Dr. Hovaus into a chair as Colonel
Quautar and Miaundea left the balcony.
Dr. Hovaus folded his thin hands on the
table. Yes. I reviewed your application with the other professors on staff
yesterday. Your knowledge and abilities are impressive, and I'm anxious for you
to work with me. My current apprentices are Drs. Lren Tervel and Lataushla
Ferudant. Lren will be taking his Committee exam for certification in half a
year, and you will be taking his place. You can, however, come and work for me
now if you wish, although it will mean that you and Ausha will have to share an
office for a while. We're working to capacity as it is, and we could use the
extra help.
Of course I'll come work with you now. When
do I start?
Colonel Quautar tells me that you will
probably leave the island on Second Day. Report to the clinic at the seventh
hour on Third Day. That will give me a chance to show you around the clinic and
introduce you to Lren and Ausha before conference at eight. Our office opens at
nine on Third Day, and you can spend the morning seeing patients with Ausha.
After lunch, I'll show you around the hospital and introduce you to people;
then at the eighteenth hour, you and Ausha will take the emergency room shift
until the sixth hour the following morning, and I'll put Lren on stand-by.
Ton nodded. Dr. Hovaus went on to give Ton
the address to the Clinic of Neuromedicine and other important information.
They discussed their office and hospital schedules, training and certification
requirements, Novaun's unique medical technology, many of Dr. Hovaus's current
cases, and the other staff members with whom Ton would work.
Lren is a good, conscientious physician.
Ausha is from a medical family. Her father is Dr. Vumen Ferudant, the Union's
foremost authority on brain stem surgery. Ausha Ferudant is as excited and
creative a physician as her father was when we apprenticed together ninety
years ago, and she shows every indication of continuing in the same tradition.
The two of you should make a powerful team.
Ton knew immediately which apprentice was
the average physician and which was the brilliant one. Ton couldn't believe his
good fortune in being teamed with the brilliant one, and with such immediacy
too.
I guess we'll know that for sure after
our shift together in the emergency room. An idea came to Ton. Feeling
bold, he decided to go ahead and express it. Teren Zaurvau has a shoulder
injury caused by a neurodart. It will require major nerve reconstruction. I
would like to do that operation if he and the Fleet Network are willing. I've
done a lot of operations of that kind, and I think having him go under the
scalpel of a foreigner will do much to inspire confidence in my future
patients.
You may be right, but it doesn't matter.
The Fleet clinic has more work than it has personnel, and the physicians there
refer patients to us all the time. I'll have Colonel Quautar summon Teren, and
the four of us can discuss the possibility.
Ton spent much of Eighth Day exploring the
island with Teren and Miaundea and First Day alone in his suite, studying.
Second Day morning, six days after his arrival on Novaun, he and Teren prepared
to leave the island.
That morning, in a press release that
shocked the Union, Novaun's High Judge Glanan Alhet announced that the
Interstellar Alliance of Planets, having received evidence that Earth was armed
and ready to conquer the planets on which it owned arelada mines and prime
territory, had ordered Earth's space fleets, all but a designated number of
trade ships, to return to Earth's space territory within three Earth months. If
the Earth fleets failed to return immediately to Earth's territory, the host
planets would seize all Earth-owned arelada companies.
Following President Alhet's announcement,
Patan Doshyr and General Larauna communicated their statements concerning
Teren's escape from the Sovereign of the Stars, his return to Novaun
with the Doshyr twins and the spirit dimension formula, and their belief that
Jovem Doshyr was still alive as Earth's Director of Intelligence, Sanel King.
Patan and General Larauna answered questions, and then InterMind News presented
a documentary containing press reports from the past that examined Jovem
Doshyr's treason, murder of his niece, his suicide, and the subsequent death of
Jenan Doshyr and the disappearance of his wife and their twin children.
Ton and Teren waited in the third floor
lobby that Second Day afternoon with Miaundea, surrounded by luggage, when
Miaundea's father arrived to give them final instructions.
He handed them each gold rings set with the
arelada necessary to use InterMind. "An interviewer for InterMind will be
here in about ten minutes with his librarian."
"The press?" Ton put his hand to
his head. "I think I have a headache."
Colonel Quautar smiled. "A necessary
evil, I'm afraid. General Larauna and Minon Doshyr's statement this morning
nearly raised the dead from their graves." The colonel turned to Teren.
"Minon Doshyr would prefer you be cautious in revealing personal details
about Paul and Deia for now, particularly your relationship to Deia. He doesn't
feel either one of them are ready for that sort of publicity yet. They will get
their chance with the press in due time."
Teren's already somber eyes filled with
desolation. "May I tell my family?"
"Yes, just be cautious."
*
Twenty minutes after the interview, Teren,
Ton, and Miaundea arrived at the apartment Miaundea had secured for Teren and
Ton in a complex across the walk from her own. Teren and Ton unpacked a few
things, then went with Miaundea to Auyval Beach for an early dinner at Teren's
former home, currently the home of his sister Ranela. All of his sisters and
their families would be there, along with his grandparents. After dinner, they
would attend the memorial service for Teren's father.
The three arrived at Auyval Beach an hour
before dinner while the sky was still a pale blue. The air was heavy and hot,
smelling of salt and a piquant fragrance Ton had never encountered. "What
makes the fragrance that saturates the air?"
"The auyvalnut tree," Miaundea
replied. "No matter where you go on the Peninsula, you cannot get away
from it."
They flew over veined marble walks lined
with long, two-story marble homes. Some of the homes had domed roofs, others
had slightly slanted roofs; some had exquisitely carved pillar promenades,
others had arches; some had neatly-tended lawns, others had pools, fountains,
and beds of colorful flowers, while still others had rock and gem gardens. All
were towered over by exotic semi-tropical trees that seemed to be dripping with
moss. Novaunian Fleet shuttles and squadrons of fighters occasionally passed
over.
Returning home brought ruddiness into
Teren's cheeks and happiness into his eyes. He animatedly pointed out the homes
of everyone he knew to Ton and told him the names of birds, flowers, trees, and
anything else he could think of.
The taxi came to a stop on the landing strip
at Pier 4. Teren pushed himself out of the taxi and bounded down the pier.
Miaundea turned to Ton. "Do you want
to come?"
"Where?"
"To meet Kevan and Alysia, my brother
and Teren's sister."
Ton shrugged. "Why not?"
The two slid out of the taxi and walked
briskly down the long pier to the Alysia, almost overtaking Teren. Kevan
and Alysia emerged from the boat, just as Teren arrived.
"Teren!" Alysia shrieked, and in
an instant, she, Teren, and Kevan were in a vigorous three-way hug, the dock
rocking gently under their feet.
Teren found a free hand and flung it at
Kevan's golden brown mustache. What's this? You radical! Miaundea didn't
tell me anything about a mustache!
I had to see your face when you saw it!
Kevan's jade green eyes shone with glee. You
should've seen Father's face! He threatened to shave it off in my sleep!
Alysia grinned. Her actions and attitude
were excited and energetic, but her face was haggard, red and puffy. He's
never even been so angry with Miaundea!
What? Ton asked, a bit
sarcastically. Is facial hair a sin too? He stroked his chin. Maybe
I'll grow a beard.
Alysia gasped in delight. Oh, you're
shameless!
Ton smiled baitingly, gazing sidelong at
Miaundea. I've been taking lessons from Miaundea.
Miaundea caught the bait in her teeth and
spit it right back at him. Lessons in refinement and self-control. After
only a second's pause, long enough to smile at him complacently, but not long
enough to allow a retort, she continued, And no, facial hair is not a sin,
it's simply not culturally acceptable.
Like wearing denim slacks and sandals to
the theater, Teren communicated.
It just isn't done.
Alysia slipped both arms around Kevan's
waist and lovingly kissed his ear, then his cheek, strands of her long brown
hair floating carelessly in the breeze. Well, I'm glad he did it. I forbade
him to shave it off.
Miaundea looked in excitement at Teren. But
it is done now. Quite a few young Mautysian men are wearing mustaches.
Right, and Mautysian restaurants are
serving meat.
I wouldn't have believed it either, but I
was at a seminar last week, and I saw several.
Kevan raised his eyebrows. That means
I'm actually in style! I guess I'd better shave it off.
"No!" Alysia exclaimed in horror.
Teren waved his hand. It's just a fad.
Within two years, you won't see any.
That's what everyone thought about the
combed-back hairstyles too,
Miaundea communicated, and look at how many of those you see now.
I
know! I nearly died when I saw Fleet officers in them. Teren clownishly
combed his hair straight back, then rolled his eyes up to watch it fall limply
back down on his forehead. Everyone laughed. He shook his head in mock
disappointment. How do they get it to do that, anyway?
Miaundea smiled in amusement. They rub a
lotion in it after they wash it, then it dries the way it's combed.
Ton smirked. And just how many Mautysian
men have had the privilege of having you in their bathrooms with them to watch
them do their morning rituals?
There have been so many, I stopped counting
a long time ago.
Teren's features wrinkled in disgust. While
Mautysian men are primping, Shalaunian men are in the Fleet dying.
What, not all of Novaun supports the famous
Fleet? Ton asked with interest.
Miaundea shook her head. Verzaun,
which is where Mautysia is located, Narquasa, and all three countries that make
up the southern continent are pacifist countries, and over seven hundred worlds
in the Union have pacifistic policies. They abhor the Fleet, and they believe
capital punishment is murder. They are a minority, but still, they have a lot
of political power.
Power that they wouldn't have if Mautysia and the House Jualaz didn't support the Isolationism Movement with their money and delusions of culture, Teren communicated.
So your
telepathic society has social classes after all, Ton communicated.
There isn't
anyone who is poor, if that's what you're asking, Teren replied, but
there are definitely families that are wealthier than others.
I'm not sure
the Mautysians are so much wealthier than other Novaunians, Miaundea
observed. They just seem to enjoy their money more.
You mean they're pretentious, Ton communicated.
No, luxurious.
No, gaudy, Kevan corrected.
Miaundea
continued, ignoring Kevan, Everything in Mautysia is done in a luxurious,
passionate, dramatic way. I don't necessarily think that makes the Mautysians
or any other Verzaunians pretentious.
They are
pretentious! Teren looked knowingly at Ton. Picture this--an entire city
of spoiled rich kids just like Paul. Most of them are artists and actors and
musicians, all living quite well off of their families. No one has to work for
status--there is no such thing as a struggling student in Mautysia.
Ton groaned and shook his head.
Miaundea brushed her hair away from her face. I don't agree with their ideology either, Teren, but they are sincere. And many of them may be artists, but they're hard-working, exceptional ones. I don't know of one person who hasn't been across the Gulf at least once to see a play. As long as we keep accusing them of being cowards and shunning their duty, they will continue to think of the Fleet as an organization of murder.
Teren sighed. I know. It wouldn't be so bad, but the glares they give poor unsuspecting Fleet privates in uniform! I'm tempted to go to a play tomorrow in full dress!
Alysia turned
and headed back toward the boat. Please! Enough discussion of politics! Sometimes
you two can be so dreadfully dull.
Teren and Miaundea laughed delightedly.
Kevan waved a hand toward the boat. Come aboard for a while. Ranela won't have dinner for at least another thirty minutes. He followed Alysia down the stairs from the dock to the deck of their boat.
Once on the boat, Teren, Miaundea, and Ton followed Kevan and Alysia into their cabin-living room, where their little honey-haired, blue-eyed baby boy was playing in fascination with his mother's paintbrushes.
"Oh!" Alysia gasped. She grabbed the brushes from his fists, scowled and shook her head. The baby peered at her hesitantly, almost calculatingly, then burst out crying, banging his palms on the mat. Teren instantly dropped to the floor to meet him and find him a toy. Alysia informed Teren that his name was Sharad, after her father-in-law.
Ton looked around the cabin, shaking his head in amazement. "This place is incredible," he said under his breath.
Miaundea smiled
in understanding. "Isn't it?"
Kevan and Alysia gave new meaning to the
word casual. Aquariums of all sizes and shapes sat in various places around the
room, sea shells were piled in corners and sitting on the aquarium stands,
unframed paintings of seascapes and marine life hung haphazardly on the walls
and ceiling, and a covered easel stood in the corner by the kitchenette. The
only pieces of furniture were a low table, aquarium stands, and huge
life-preserver pillows of blue, beige, and coral pink, and the floor was
covered with multi-colored woven mats. As for Kevan and Alysia themselves, both
were deeply tanned and in a constant state of touch, their clothing for the
funeral formal, contrasting sharply with their home and leisurely physical
bearings.
"Alysia is an artist, and Kevan is a
marine biologist," Miaundea explained in a whisper.
"Your brother's even stranger than you
are, and looks about as sex-starved."
"That is called affection."
"They're sickening!"
"And satisfied! You are just
jealous."
Kevan dropped himself down on a pillow next
to Teren and little Sharad, and Alysia cuddled up next to him. Miaundea sat
down nearby and reached up to tug on Ton's arm. Ton reluctantly sat down next
to her. Miaundea leaned toward Kevan and Alysia. So, did you two assimilate
the interview?
Alysia's face paled, and her eyes lost all
animation. She nodded quickly and leaned her head on Kevan's shoulder, weeping
uninhibitedly. Kevan drew her closer, kissing her and attempting to console
her. His face was sad as he communicated to Teren, I just don't know what to
think. You and your father spies. And his death was so horrible. We're both in
shock.
Didn't Lauria tell you five days ago? Miaundea asked.
Kevan shook his
head. Dumped Trenda on us and left, telling us something about a vacation
with Rayel. Father came by this morning before I was supposed to go to work and
told us about Minon Danal's death, right before General Larauna's statement. I
think he may be more devastated than any of us.
After several
minutes of communication silence, Kevan slapped Teren's shoulder and attempted
to change the mood in the cabin. You sure handled that traitor! Not to
mention that jellyfish who interviewed you.
Miaundea immediately communicated to Teren, Well, aren't you going to tell them? Kevan and Alysia looked at Teren expectantly.
Teren's eyes shimmered with anticipation. I may be getting betrothed soon.
Kevan and Alysia's faces were identical pictures of amazement. They immediately turned to Miaundea.
Miaundea shook
her head vigorously. Oh no! Not to me! Tell them, Teren.
My girlfriend
is Deia Doshyr. We've loved each other practically from the moment we met.
Kevan and Alysia were stunned. You handled that jellyfish even better than I thought, was all Kevan could reply.
She is the
most elegant, exquisite girl, Miaundea communicated, and she's just
perfect for Teren.
Alysia leaned
forward and embraced Teren. That's wonderful! When will we get to meet her?
Soon, I hope.
It all depends on how long it takes her and Paul to become comfortable with
Novaun and everything they've learned about their family's tragic past.
Alysia hesitated. How are you
going to manage it? Will she come here to live, or will you move there?
Neither one
of us is going anywhere for a while.
You radical! Kevan
communicated playfully. Getting involved with a foreign girl--
She isn't
foreign! Miaundea interrupted. She's Patan Doshyr's granddaughter, and
her brother is the natural heir!
Menaura seems foreign to me! Kevan shot back. He grinned. So, is she good-looking?
Ton glanced sidelong at Miaundea. She's beautiful. Intimidatingly beautiful. Miaundea glared at him.
Teren began
telling Kevan and Alysia all about Deia. He hardly seemed to have begun when
Alysia communicated, standing up with Kevan. It's time to go. You can finish
telling us about her on the way. I can't wait to meet her!
Kevan scooped up Sharad, who was tapping an aquarium with a seashell, and a diaper bag, and the five left the Alysia and headed to the waiting taxi. They arrived at Ranela's home five minutes later.
Teren's reunion with his family was one of kissing, embracing, and crying tears of happiness and grief. Members of the family ate dinner on the spacious back patio, then slid into separate taxis and flew to the Zaurvau ancestral home north of Shalaun for the memorial service.
Major Zaurvau was honored with full
military and religious ceremony. Teren communicated a prayer to begin the
service. General Larauna then proceeded to relate Major Zaurvau's achievements
as a Novaunian Fleet officer and expressed his appreciation for his service to
Novaun and his patriotism. Braunen Zaurvau, Teren's grandfather, communicated
of his son's contributions in all other areas of his life. Colonel Quautar
communicated of his friendship with Danal Zaurvau, reminded everyone of God's
love and the peace his friend was now experiencing in the company of those
family members and Novaunian Fleet peers who had already passed on, and gave
the prayer to consecrate the grave.
A coffin, containing only a Novaunian Fleet
dress uniform with all of Major Zaurvau's decorations, including the medals of
heroism General Larauna had just presented to him, was lowered into the ground
next to the grave of Shauna Zaurvau, Teren's mother. Everyone sang a hymn to
end the service that praised God, expressing joy in the gift of life and the
blissful continuation of families in the eternities.
Following the service, Teren and all of the
other members of his immediate family remained at the estate to greet friends
and family members from all over Tavon who had stopped by to welcome Teren home
and communicate their condolences on the death of Major Zaurvau. Miaundea stood
in the mammoth sky-lighted hall all evening, introducing Ton to the hundreds of
people who came to pay their respects.
Late that night, after Teren, Ton, and
Miaundea returned to the men's apartment, Teren rummaged through one of his
suitcases and removed a commudisc in its sleeve. He handed it to Miaundea.
"When you see Deia, I want you to give her this."
Miaundea embraced Teren and kissed his
cheek. "I'll tell you everything as soon as I get back."
Teren squeezed her hand. "Thank
you."
Miaundea glanced around the room,
unfurnished except for a chair and two small cots. She gazed playfully up at
Ton. "I sure wish I could come shopping with you. I would help you pick
out the most magnificent single bed." Teren laughed.
Ton didn't even attempt a retort. He smiled
complacently, his eyes following her amorously out the door.
Paul and Deia spent the day after their
mother's funeral, Eighth Day, getting to know their grandparents and learning
about their relatives. Deia slept uneasily that night, awaking at the second
hour to the muffled sounds of kicking and cursing from the room next door. She
sprang out of bed and in only a second, was trying to open Paul's door. It was
locked.
She knocked. "Paul, let me in!"
"Go away!"
Deia turned and sat down with her back
against the door, not communicating so much as a feeling in reply.
Several minutes passed, and Paul's door
opened. Deia fell backward against his shins. She stood up and turned to face him.
Paul looked at her with wide, bloodshot eyes. "I didn't mean it."
Deia stayed with him all that night as he
paced, clenching and unclenching his fists, convulsing, and cursing Sanel. She
fell asleep on his bed, and he didn't get close enough to his bed all night to
even sit down.
Deia awoke the next morning, First Day, to
see Paul leaning out his window, holding his head and gulping the fresh air.
When he turned to her, she saw that his face was contorted and corpse-white.
She went to embrace him, and he gripped her in desperation.
Patan entered some time later, looking as
though he hadn't slept well either. He put his hands on their shoulders and
guided them to the bed to sit down with him. Deia put her hands, trembling, to
her temples, and Paul sat as still as a tombstone.
Patan as always, communicated
with gentle directness, The next few weeks and months will not be easy ones
for any of us. Your presence, your coming back from the dead, has reopened many
very deep wounds of grief for your grandmother and me. We want all four of us
to visit a counselor together until all of us feel our ugly feelings are gone
or at least under control.
Paul looked at him, stunned. You want all of us to go? But I thought . . . He frowned at his lap, completely disconcerted.
Patan gazed at Paul and Deia sadly. This Sanel King, this man you hate so much and who has committed so many crimes against human decency, is our son. Neither one of you is a parent, so you cannot comprehend the sorrow we feel for how he has destroyed himself spiritually or the guilt we have had to live with every day for the past seventeen years that we in some way caused all of this.
Deia was just as stunned as Paul. You didn't do anything wrong, she communicated in an effort to console.
Patan squeezed
her shoulder. It is so easy to think I should feel a certain way, but so
seemingly impossible to make myself feel it. He stood up. Your
grandmother and I are going to Devotional this morning, and we would like both
of you to come with us.
Deia nodded.
Paul looked at
their grandfather skeptically. Devotional? Is that something like Worship?
If Worship is
a weekly religious service, then yes.
Paul shook his
head adamantly. I'm not going.
Please, Paul,
Deia implored. I would like to go, and I won't if you don't.
"I'll think about it," he
muttered.
Deia kissed his cheek, stood up, and left
Paul's room with Patan.
Deia bathed, applied what little make-up
she had, and slipped into a beautiful pale blue silk dress with a V-shaped
neckline embellished with tiny emeralds, sheer green drapes hanging from her
hips on the front and back, and a green silk cummerbund. Once she was dressed,
she went downstairs to have breakfast with all four of her grandparents. She
was swallowing her last bite of roll when Paul appeared in the dining room
dressed for Devotional, acting displeased.
He tugged impatiently at the half-vest of
his pale beige suit, then at his pale turquoise cummerbund. "Look at this
suit!" he said shrilly to Deia. "I can't believe I am going out in
public dressed like this. I would rather look like a clone in Star Force. At
least that suit was tailored properly and I had a decent sash. And I have no
cologne. How am I supposed to feel dressed without cologne?" He put his
finger to the corner of one of Deia's eyes, then to her lips. "Where are
your mascara and lipstick? Didn't they give you any mascara and lipstick
either?" He was angry now.
Deia tried very hard not to smile. Paul had
come to breakfast the first morning at Dignitary Island complaining about how
atrocious the clothes were. She was surprised he hadn't complained about it
since. "I can live without mascara and lipstick for a while, and Miaundea
said she would get me some. And that's a very nice suit, Paul. It isn't exactly
your style, but it's still very nice."
Patan and Yaulanda frowned at each other, then turned again to Paul. Wh