All That Bedevils Us, page 16
“The drone the Others picked up makes it plain, if they understand its contents, that we are allied with the Philic T’lack,” Sarah pointed out.
“It does, and we have to assume the locals won’t come here until they have at least some grasp of what the drone gave them.” He left unspoken the thought that the locals might come to them for the sole purpose of destroying the interlopers. Costa’s gut feeling wouldn’t let him seriously entertain the notion. They couldn’t have been more obvious in the recent battle. “So there shouldn’t be any surprise involved. And if they arrive knowing the Philics are here, it will say something important about them. It will tell us just how open-minded they might be.”
A rumble came from Fuumbral. “I see that point, but must agree with Takak. Having his ships sitting around the nodal coordinates might still surprise visitors in the wrong way. The drone data shows a T’lack contingent, to be sure, and attempts to explain it. But we cannot be sure the message will be understood as intended.”
Costa found himself nodding as the Hroom spoke. “And what of Takak’s concern that they will be seen as taking less of a risk?” he asked.
“I agree with Takak, sir,” said Captain Anderson. “And for my own part I don’t see this as a shirking of duty. I doubt anyone else will, either.”
“The effect on our defenses would be minimal,” said the captain of the Grahlin ship Woktal.
“Our ships would also be able to move into nodal proximity in six minutes,” Takak said, and then added, “The trust of my associates is of great value.”
“You have earned it,” said Maladar, to a chorus of agreement.
“Are we all in agreement?” Costa asked. He knew he could make it so with a word, but the full agreement of his command officers was of value to him. No one voiced dissent, and he nodded again. “Right. That’s the plan, then. We’ll position the T’lack to provide cover for the Rusalas ships.” He looked around at the images in his office. “In the meantime we follow through on the original plan. Continue to send drones out on viable vectors while we wait. If we hit multiple contacts, so much the better. Next conference in forty-eight hours, unless something happens before then.”
The room seemed to shimmer as multiple images disappeared, Dorgnas among them. Costa was about to sign off, when he realized Maladar was still visible. He expanded her image, showing her cross-legged in a Leyra’an bowl chair, watching him patiently. “You look like you have something on your mind,” he said.
“Have you spoken to Dorgnas since your return?” Maladar asked in response.
“Only briefly,” he replied, suddenly wary. “Why?”
“She has a problem aboard the Rusalas station,” Maladar said. “Questions have been raised as to her fitness to lead.”
“Because of me?”
“Yes,” she said. “According to Dorgnas there is a vocal contingent among the Rusalas crew that desires her removal. They have a replacement in mind.”
“I knew there was some friction,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know it was as bad as all that.”
“She is reluctant to burden you,” Maladar said. “But given the role the Rusalas must play in this mission…”
“You decided to go around her,” Costa said, nodding and not at all displeased that she had done so. “Odd that I haven’t received any complaints from the Rusalas. They’ve never been shy about using my open door policy in the past.”
Maladar made a sound of disparagement. “Of course they’ve said nothing, Jan. There is a sort of cowardice that is characteristic of the species. They avoid direct confrontations as much as possible. They dodge and manipulate a situation, finesse problems. Your relationship with Dorgnas is intimate. They apparently see her as having undue influence over you, where Rusalas matters are concerned, but they will not approach you while they believe they can put pressure on her.”
For a moment Costa considered pointing out the absurdity of the idea of undue influence, but he knew Maladar well enough to know she didn’t believe there was anything inappropriate going on. He would be preaching to the converted. Had it been otherwise, the ever forthright Leyra’an would have accused him of favoritism long since. “How recently did she acquaint you with the situation?”
“Not long after you left to rescue the Others from the Phobics.”
“I was really hoping this would all go the other way, or that her fellow Rusalas would at least leave well enough alone,” Costa said with a grimace. “We’ll work something out, somehow. I suppose I’m not really surprised, but I honestly believe the best solution would be for the Rusalas to see how well this worked for the two of us, while we all work together on this mission. To set an example that could use familiarity to remove the stigma, rather than pretend we felt nothing for each other.”
“In time it will surely do so,” Maladar replied with a frown deep enough to pucker the scales on her forehead. It wasn’t a good look for her. “But it will likely be a longer time than you expected. In view of how her family has reacted, I am quite sure you…”
“How her family reacted?” Costa echoed abruptly.
“Yes,” Maladar replied, eyes widening. “Did she not tell you? The message came with that last drone.”
“She didn’t say a damned thing.” Costa worked to unclench his jaw and speak calmly.
“Gods of all Clans!” Maladar said something else, a Leyra’an profanity that didn’t quite translate into the standard Human language they’d all agreed to use. “Jan, I assumed — forgive me if I have created a problem for the two of you by speaking out of turn.”
“Not your fault, if she didn’t swear you to secrecy,” he said.
“Nothing of the sort,” Maladar replied. “Still…”
“What’s done is done,” he assured her. “I’ll take it from here.” He pointedly did not inquire into details regarding what Dorgnas had learned, and was quite sure he could guess some of them from the fact that Dorgnas had said nothing to him. “You may actually have done us a favor.”
Maladar, looking gravely concerned, inclined her head to him as her image vanished.
~19~
Costa made a point of relocating to the Loknata immediately after his conversation with Maladar. He found Dorgnas there waiting in the docking access lounge, and her eyes smiled as she came to him, dressed yet again in Leyra’an style. That, also, was a signal he now knew how to read; she always dressed specifically for the occasion, and this time the signal was that romance was currently replaced by a good night’s sleep. He allowed himself a little disappointment. They embraced as always, the Rusalas being very fond of that manner of showing affection. Costa was never in a hurry to break such an embrace, even if her wisps of facial hair tickled at times.
Dorgnas drew back and peered at him, eyes shifting down and out in a frown. “You are troubled by something,” she said.
“It’s been a long day,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get to our quarters. Casual tonight?” It was their euphemism for the fact that Dorgnas had passed into the physically unreceptive part of her cycle.
“I am afraid so,” she replied as they started down the corridor. “Sorry.”
“Are you ever going to stop apologizing for that?” Costa put his arm around her waist. “I’m serious.”
“Someday, perhaps, I will grow accustomed to Human males being always sedfisata,” she said.
The Rusalas word had no direct translation into standard Human language, but it was easy enough to interpret. “I imagine that aspect of Human physiology would take some getting used to, if you happen to be Rusalas. I sometimes wonder which of us has made the larger adjustment.”
“That is not a wager I would be willing to make,” Dorgnas replied.
“Not sure how we would call it in any case.” They came to a lift and it chimed to acknowledge their presence. And did so again just as the door opened. They made similar small talk as the lift whisked them across the width of the station, and deposited them in a corridor identical in appearance to the one they’d just left.
In their quarters, Dorgnas vanished into the tiny bathroom while he requested their evening meal, which would be delivered robotically at the time he specified. Costa sat on the short sofa and waited. Dorgnas rejoined him a moment later, dressed in the loose gown Rusalas women wore outside the receptive time.
“I am so happy you are back, and safe.”
“Me, too,” he said with feeling. “There were so many ways that could have gone wrong. I’m astonished it turned out as it did.”
“As you shuttled over, I scanned the preliminary report,” she said. “It seemed to me the Others showed an awareness of your good intentions.”
“There was a gesture at the end,” he agreed with a nod. “And that transmission, which Rory still hasn’t figured out.”
“My team has the data,” she said. “If it can be understood without the Others being here to help, it will be.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Costa replied. “You Rusalas are amazing, the way you absorb and understand languages, and your group out here is the best to be found in that sector of the T’lack-Rusalas Association.”
“They are very good, I’m sure,” Dorgnas said.
“Speaking of the Rusalas contingent, rumor has it things are not working as smoothly in that quarter as they should be.” He felt her stiffen even as he spoke.
“It is nothing,” she assured him, taking his hand.
“That’s not what I heard.”
“And from whence comes this rumor?” Dorgnas asked.
“Maladar.”
Dorgnas made a rude sound and sat away from him enough that they could face each other. “I should have known better than to confide in her.”
“Oh, you picked exactly the right person,” Costa admonished. “She’s too smart to keep something so potentially damaging to herself. She can see the risks as well as I can.”
“What risk?” Dorgnas asked. “It is not as if they might mutiny.”
“They wouldn’t need to,” he replied. “The terms of the mission charter allow them to petition for a change in organizational structure.”
“Surely you can refuse such a thing?”
“I can,” he replied with a shrug. “But it would be tricky. Consider how that would look, given our obvious relationship. I’d need a pretty solid and defensible reason to veto an internal Rusalas decision.”
“This has nothing to do with my abilities,” Dorgnas muttered, looking down as her face seemed to pinch in on itself, which was not an attractive sight. “It is us being together they disapprove of.”
“I understand that,” Costa replied. “Cross-species pairings are new to them, and most of your people find them — unsettling.” Costa gently stroked the side of her face as he spoke, and felt tiny shifting movements under his fingertips. “The differences between us are so obvious, I can’t say I’m surprised. It takes getting used to, even when you really want to.”
“Humans are different in this regard?”
“No, not really,” he replied. “Not as a species. Time was, our relationship would have been illegal in the Republic, though I doubt they’d be troubled by it in the Commonwealth. President Worth has eliminated that law. In any case, we’ve known the Leyra’an for a while now, and intimate relationships between our peoples are not exactly a rarity.”
“What are we to do?” she asked, looking up, her eyes wide and round.
“For the time being, we maintain a stable orbit,” he said. “If we give in and separate, nothing is gained. We may be the first ever open cross-species pairing in Rusalas history, but we won’t be the last, trust me. For the sake of future Human and Rusalas, and likely Leyra’an, relations, we need to find a way to make this work out.”
“It will not be easy, Jan.”
“No, it won’t,” he replied. Costa reached for her and drew her back to him; there was no resistance. “If they petition me for an administrative change, I’ll demand evidence that your work and your leadership have declined. They’ll need to have solid proof.”
“There will be none!”
“I know that,” Costa assured her. “But the requirement would be completely legitimate, by the book, and they’ll end up on the record as having no grounds for complaint. I’m more worried that you didn’t come to me right away with this. Anything to do with your people having problems with us, you need to tell me. It’s important.”
Her hand twitched up toward her beard, but she lowered her hand without completing the nervous gesture. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “I meant to, but — another matter distracted me.” She sat up and away from him as if stung. “She told you, didn’t she? That I heard from my family.”
Costa closed his eyes and made a sound midway between a sigh and a groan. “Well, sort of. Maladar told me you had word from them before we set out. Then she realized I didn’t know about that and stopped talking. So I don’t know what your family said. Though, frankly, right now I believe I can make a pretty good guess, since you didn’t immediately tell me that you’d gotten a response.”
She gave a tiny groan that sounded like despair to Costa’s ears. Certainly the sag of her shoulders and drooping of her eyes made it plain Dorgnas was not happy. He didn’t push, but the longer she sat that way the more worried he became. Eventually, Costa reached out and stroked her fringe of facial hair. He knew it felt good to her, knew his gesture was a common display of comfort and affection between Rusalas adults. But Dorgnas snatched his hand away. It was abrupt, but she didn’t release his hand, and a heartbeat later had it clutched firmly between hers.
“I could not tell you, not immediately upon your return,” she whispered. “I was so appalled and surprised by what they said, Jan!”
Rusalas did not weep, not the way Humans and Leyra’an did, and so no tears were shed. It was still plain as a blade in his heart what was happening, what those painful, shuddering gasps must mean. She was crying, after the manner of her kind. Seeing that, Costa quickly gathered her up in his arms and held her, moving fast enough that Dorgnas had no time to object. He said nothing; what assurances could he offer, with so little to go on? Something in that reply had hurt her badly, that was obvious. He bit back the urge to ask what exactly they had said to her, and what it might mean for the two of them.
But Dorgnas was too upset to respond to questions, and Costa was nearly unnerved by how quickly and completely she had collapsed when he revealed what little Maladar had said. A combat situation he could deal with. Costa had given orders that meant life or death for thousands of people. Now he held a distraught woman about whom he cared deeply, felt completely helpless, and was frankly terrified by that feeling.
And in the midst of that helplessness the phrase cared deeply touched a nerve, and shook him as it did. Cared? He was in love with her, and in that moment of realization there was a pang of guilt. Had two years, after all, been long enough? Either way, why hadn’t he said the words? Guilt was replaced by a sort of shame. He felt a coward. And yet the present moment was clearly not the time. He shoved all such matters aside and focused on her distress, an immediate priority. It took a while, but Dorgnas finally calmed down enough that Costa thought it wise to try and say something. He went with the obvious. Holding her face between his hands, he tilted her head up so she couldn’t help looking at him. “Tell me what they said.”
“Jan, it was not a response to any message I sent them. They sent this before any word from me arrived. Someone else, I don’t know who, sent word to them. They created a most unflattering image of what we share and it — oh, Jan…” Dorgnas clutched at him, first his arms and then his hands on her face, as if unsure how to seek his support. “My family is being shunned. That is a hard thing for a Rusalas to bear!”
“Humans wouldn’t handle it well, either,” he said.
Dorgnas sat back from him, and when his hands slipped from her face she caught them in hers. “The reactions we have seen here and back at Patkattat star system, they are mild by comparison! At least those members of my kind know you. They have seen Humans. Some have worked with Humans and other Sibling Species. Back in my home star system, they know none of this. You are just an idea. Images, frightening and alien.”
“More so than the T’lack?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “No, I’m afraid the problem is that we’re not alien enough.”
“It makes a strange sort of sense,” she replied. “I hoped — I believed that the example of how the T’lack could learn to live among us would be strong enough.”
“Yes, well, what we’re doing is just a little bit different from that,” Costa pointed out. If he hoped the deliberate understatement would lighten her mood, he was mistaken.
“It is our very intimacy that repels,” she whispered. “It is seen as unnatural.”
“I know,” Costa said. “I heard something to that effect before we launched the mission.” He sighed and shook his head. “Dorgnas, I am so sorry!”
“Don’t be!” she snapped, suddenly as fierce as Costa had ever seen a Rusalas. “The fault is not yours, and there should be no failing seen. They have no right!”
“I agree,” he replied in an even tone. “And I’m not backing away from this because of what others might think. I am, however, concerned that your family…” Something finally registered. “Wait a moment. Your folks were responding to someone else’s message? Not yours?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I made that clear.”
“You did, and I didn’t catch it. So you haven’t actually had a response to your message?”
“No, there was not time enough for it even to reach them before we departed.” She sighed, a sound that made her seem all too Human and vulnerable. “And now, of course, their minds and the minds of those around them will be made up before what I meant them to hear is fairly heard.” She paused. “If they’d seen my happiness first…”
