* * *
Fletcher had always been tender with me, but his lovemaking that night was cautious in a way it hadn’t been before. I wondered at the change but didn't ask about it. As I was beginning to drift toward sleep, however, he spoke into the quiet. “You’ve never talked to me about the Flare.”
“I know.”
“That’s what your … non-flashback tonight was about, right?”
I nodded against his shoulder.
“Hathan attacked you.”
It wasn’t a question, but I said obligingly, “Right.”
“You were alone with him.” I nodded again, wondering where this was going. He said slowly, “The report that went out to the Strangers was pretty vague. It just said you had bruises on your face and a sprained wrist. How did that happen?”
All at once his odd hesitation when telling me about the attempted rape of one of the Vardeshi representatives on Earth clicked into place. “Are you asking if he tried to force himself on me?”
A pause. Then, “Yes.”
“No, he didn’t.”
Fletcher pulled back a little and raised himself on his elbow to look into my face. I said steadily, “It wasn’t like that.”
“Do you want to tell me what it was like?”
“I think I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Okay,” he said. I liked him for his willingness to accept the refusal without arguing or accusing or otherwise trying to twist my private pain into somehow being about him. I liked him, I realized, much more than I’d ever expected to, even after I’d decided to invite him into my bed. I shifted in his arms, settling my head more comfortably on his chest. His fingers moved lightly in my hair. We lay awake for a long time, each thinking our own thoughts. Neither of us mentioned the Flare again, but it was there with us like a shadow in the room.
* * *
We were in the Green Zone’s galley the next morning, assembling a late breakfast, when my flexscreen signaled an incoming message. I checked it and made a face. “Ugh. Looks like the Echelon’s made its ruling on the Ascendant.”
Fletcher paused with a pancake balanced on his spatula and looked up, his expression oddly intent. “And?”
I shrugged. “And nothing. That’s all it says. I have to go to some kind of formal announcement this afternoon with my crew and a bunch of high-ranking Fleet and Echelon people.”
“Sounds fun,” he said sardonically.
An instant later his flexscreen chimed too. I laughed. “I bet that’s your invite.”
He read the notification. “Apparently we’re both in for an afternoon of long-winded speeches.”
I spent the intervening hours catching up on my correspondence with Earth. Fletcher helped by triaging my unviewed messages and offering suggestions when I found myself stuck for a word. I was grateful for his help; the phrases he suggested had a brevity and directness that I knew would assuage the Council’s lingering doubts about my professionalism. When we arrived at the designated room that afternoon, there were several dozen people, most of them in Fleet or Echelon uniforms, already waiting for the proceedings to start.
“Good luck,” Fletcher said and went to take his place on the tiers of benches lining the far wall of the room.
Officer Rathis led me to my crewmates, who were gathered before the dais on which the members of the tribunal sat. “What’s the deal?” I asked Sohra in an undertone. “We don’t get to sit down?”
“It’s traditional to stand when receiving judgment,” she explained.
“Just like last time.” I shivered. “I figured that was just one of Vekesh’s little personal touches.”
“Vekesh was cruel, but he wasn’t very original,” Saresh said dismissively. “And that trial was a farce. This is the conclusion of a thorough and impartial investigation by a legitimate tribunal.”
“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” I muttered.
As the proceedings began, I admitted to myself that while knowing I had received the Vardeshi equivalent of due process wasn’t especially consoling, at least I wasn’t facing this tribunal alone. Sohra was standing to my left. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, trying to imitate her attentive stillness.
Governor Edris was the first to speak. He made a few brief introductory remarks, then ceded the floor to the First Rank officer of the Fleet, a woman named Riash whom I recognized from dinner the night before.
“Many in this room vividly recall the last confirmed outbreak of the Flare, more than forty years ago now,” she said. “It claimed more than a hundred lives. I know the experience of the Ascendant’s crew was emotionally devastating. But there can be no question that, placed in the proper context, the toll of the disease in this case was extraordinarily light. What makes this instance unique is the presence of a human. The most troubling event of the outbreak was also the most potentially damaging to interstellar politics. I will address that incident directly before giving our decision.”
Oh good, I thought. Let’s talk about it some more.
“There was some dispute among the members of this tribunal as to how to handle the involvement of Eyvri Alkhat. The purpose of debriefing is to understand the chain of cause and effect and, where necessary, to assign blame. It was recommended by some that we exempt Novi Alkhat entirely from the debriefing process. However, as her title indicates, she is a contracted employee of the Fleet. She has served us successfully for six months, and she has demonstrated her allegiance on many occasions. We chose to evaluate her actions as those of a competent and informed member of the Ascendant’s crew, rather than a civilian passenger. After extensive interviews with both her and Khavi Takheri, we conclude that they bear equal responsibility for their disastrous encounter.”
I glanced toward Hathan. He raised his eyebrows slightly.
The speaker continued, “They have since reconciled, as have the other crew members involved in violent incidents. Given that this is the case, we have elected to follow Fleet protocol with regard to reassignment. The Ascendant will launch in three days’ time for Earth with its current crew, with one exception. On behalf of the Fleet, I congratulate Novi Takheri for his year of exemplary service and wish him clear skies in his new posting on the Star of Erasik.”
“What?” I said.
Sohra looked over in surprise. “You didn’t know? Zey asked to be reassigned.”
“He what?” The words came out louder than I’d meant them to, but they were lost in the rising commotion as people began discussing the verdict with their seatmates. I looked for Zey. He was already far away, his diminutive silver-haired form nearly lost in the throng of taller uniformed figures filing toward the door. “Zey!” I shouted. He didn’t look back. I went after him, fighting to master my impatience as Officer Rathis and his companions decorously cleared a path for me. Out in the corridor I looked one way and then another, finally locating him near a junction. “Zey!” I called again, and would have sprinted after him if not for Rathis’ gentle restraining hand on my arm. “Wait,” he said. “I know you want to go after him, but you can’t run around the starhaven alone.” He nodded to one of the other guards, who went in pursuit of Zey. I followed with my remaining seven attendants at an infuriatingly sedate pace.
Within a few minutes we were standing in the corridor that housed the Ascendant’s crew. I recognized it because I had visited Sohra’s quarters a few days before. I hadn’t visited Zey’s. I didn’t even know which door to go to. Officer Rathis had to point it out to me. I pressed the control to demand entry. Instead of a welcoming chime, I heard Zey’s voice say distinctly in English, “Fuck off.”
He had to know I wasn’t alone. Torn between rage and humiliation, I punched the control again. “Zey, come on. Open the door.”
After a moment he did. He stood blocking the doorway with his body. I saw both weariness and resolve in his face. “What do you want?”
“To talk to you without eight other people listening.”
He gave my security detail
a cursory glance. “I don’t care who’s listening. If you came here to say something, then say it.”
“Fine. You can’t leave.”
He lifted one shoulder in a perfect copy of Hathan’s one-sided shrug. “I can’t stay.”
“I can’t do this without you.”
“You haven’t needed my help in months.”
“I wasn’t talking about the work,” I said.
He sighed. “Look, Eyvri, I’m not exactly happy with the way things have turned out either. And maybe it’s my fault. I thought we were friends. I thought that meant the same thing to both of us.”
My eyes stung. “It does.”
“Not from where I’m standing.” He made a shift, an incremental movement, toward the panel that housed the door controls. In that moment I knew I was about to lose him, and I knew, as well, that there was only one thing that might possibly win him back. I said, “I need to tell you something. It’s private. It involves your family. And I don’t want to say it in front of all these people, but if I have to, I will.”
With visible reluctance he moved aside. I stepped forward. Officer Rathis caught me again, as gently as before, and drew me back, murmuring an order to the nearest security guards. She slipped past Zey and into the room. Two long minutes passed. The guard emerged at last and said, “It’s clear. Go ahead.”
I went in. Zey followed me and closed the door behind him. I pointed at his bed. “Sit down.”
He sat. I started to talk. I told him the entire story, beginning with the first chime of my flexscreen on the storage-room floor, ending with the moment when Sohra and Ahnir found me in the corridor cradling my sprained wrist. For once I felt grateful to my questioners in the quarantine wing. Forced to repeat the grim saga over and over again, I had pretended I was talking to a friend. Now I was, and the words came easily. Only once or twice did I pause, knowing myself to be precariously balanced on a threshold between Zey’s tiny quarters and a cold, bright, silent room that only I could see.
Zey was quiet for a long time after I finished speaking. Then he said, “That’s awful, and I’m sorry it happened to you, but it doesn’t change anything.”
I rubbed a hand across my face. “I know. It shouldn’t. This is the part that changes things. Zey, I’m in love with him.”
“With who?”
I gazed at him, waiting.
“Hathan?” he said incredulously.
“Yes.”
He screwed his face up in mingled bewilderment and distaste. “In the name of all the ancient sigils, why?”
I wanted to laugh, despite the gravity of the moment, at the glimpse of the old carefree Zey. “It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s not just hard, it’s impossible. After what you just told me . . .” He went still. Then he said slowly, “Now I see why you wanted me to hear that.”
“I was wrong the last time we talked, when I said I didn’t have a choice. Of course I did. I could have trusted you. I’ve been a terrible friend, and I’m sorry. But I couldn't live with not being sure. It’s not like you and Saresh. I don't have a lifetime’s worth of memories of him to fall back on. I only have six months, and he spent three of those hating me. I had to know if he still did. I had to know if he meant the things he said during the Flare. It had nothing to do with your being a Blank, and everything to do with how I feel about Hathan. Words just weren’t enough. Not even his.”
“You should have told me you were going to do another Listening. You should have told me why.”
I nodded. “I wish I had.”
“I don’t know what it’s like to be in love. I’ve never felt that. But whatever it is you’re feeling, Hathan doesn’t feel it about you. I don’t have to see into his thoughts to tell you that.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I know.”
“Who else have you told?”
“No one. But Saresh has known since the first Listening.”
“That was months ago,” he said, disbelieving.
I nodded.
Zey frowned. “That’s why you didn’t want to do it?”
“No, I didn’t even know it myself until afterward. I never would have let Saresh into my head if I had. And I wouldn’t have told you now if I thought there was any other way to keep you on the Ascendant.”
His face darkened at the reminder of our present situation. “I’m committed to another ship. I launch in the morning. If I cancel my contract now, I’ll look unreliable.”
“Tell them you want to stay with your family. Tell them you’re doing a favor for your weird human crewmate. Tell them whatever you want. You just survived the Flare. No one is going to think less of you for changing your mind.” Reading the indecision in his face, I pressed the point. “The Star of Erasik has a crew of what, two hundred? Three? They’ll be fine without you. The Ascendant won’t. I won’t. And,” I added, hoping I wasn't completely misconstruing his silence, “Fletcher has Divided by Stars. All five seasons. I was going to surprise you with it after we launched.”
“I would like to see if Sirran and Zoe make a go of it,” he admitted. Then his eyes narrowed. “All of a sudden I’m seeing that show in a whole new light. No wonder you like it so much.”
“Oh, trust me, things will be a lot more interesting now that you know my secret. You can spend the next five months watching me fall all over myself in front of your totally indifferent brother. It’ll be like your own private Vardrama. And then we’ll be on Earth, and I know how much you wanted to see Earth.”
“I did,” he said. “I do.”
Unable to contain my hope any longer, I said, “Does this mean you’ll come back with us?”
Zey said slowly, “I think I will.”
I could have wept. I wanted to throw my arms around him, but I was afraid he’d startle like some wary forest animal. Instead I said simply, “I’m glad.”
“Yeah, me too.” He stood up. “Am I allowed to leave now? Because I should go talk to the Star’s khavi. She’s going to have to find another novi in a hurry.”
“Will she be angry?”
“Probably not. I’m staying with my family. It’s a respectable excuse. And, like you said, everyone treads a little more carefully around the Flare.”
“I’ll walk you there,” I offered.
“You have no idea where I’m going.”
“Then you can walk me there.”
“Okay, but I’m walking you to a senek shop afterward, and you’re buying.”
“Deal,” I said.
“Oh, and I should message Rhevi Garian, he helped arrange my transfer.” Zey looked up to gauge my response. “You know, Sidra’s—”
“I know who he is,” I snapped, and heard once again the silvery, irresistible, longed-for sound of his laugh.
It was as if we had never been estranged. After Zey spoke to his khavi, who he said took the news better than he’d expected, we made our way to Elteni’s market level. On the way I intercepted a few curious glances from my security escorts, but none of them commented on the fact that I had gone into Zey’s quarters an enemy and emerged a friend. We lingered at a senek shop, where Zey listened in fascinated horror while I described my time as a test subject in Elteni’s quarantine ward. Then we wandered into the maze of shops. He dragged me to a sigil vendor, where, over my increasingly strident protests, he began negotiating the cost of a gold Takheri sigil for me. The vendor, clearly discomfited by the presence of a human and a visibly deranged Vardeshi, was quick to offer a price.
“Too much,” Zey said dismissively, and dragged me away again.
“Are you out of your mind?” I hissed when we were a suitable distance away from the stall. “What if someone heard you?”
“Who, these guys?” He gestured to my implacable security contingent. “They don’t care.”
“Maybe not, but I do!”
“All right, all right, I’m sorry.” He raised his hands. “I won’t do it again. Here, try on this sash, it’s a good color for you.”
�
�It’s gold!” I said, outraged. “That’s a betrothal sash!”
His face fell. “How did you know?”
“I’ve seen them before.”
“You have? Where?”
I gestured vaguely. “Just . . . around.”
“You’ve seen Hathan’s!” he crowed. “In his quarters! You’re right, this makes everything a lot funnier.”
“I’m glad you’re amused,” I said sourly. “Do you have any intention of actually keeping my secret, or should I just ask for reassignment now? I hear the Star of Erasik is looking for a novi.”
“Ask away. The Star won’t take you. It’s going the wrong way. And just in case you’ve forgotten, Rhevi Garian is still on it.”
“Well, then I guess I have five months of humiliation ahead.”
Zey grinned. “Aren’t you glad you talked me out of leaving?”
It was late afternoon when we parted ways. He had arranged to meet up with his brothers for a farewell dinner. In typical Zey fashion, he planned to surprise them in person with the news of his cancelled transfer. He asked if I wanted to tag along and see their reactions. I declined, but agreed to meet up with them afterward for a drink. That way, I thought as I walked back to the Green Zone, I would have at least a couple of hours to ready myself mentally for being in the same room with all three Takheris, two of whom now knew my secret concerning the third. My predicament was becoming farcical. But I had my best friend back, and that was the important thing. I was in a cheerful mood as I changed out of my uniform and headed to the galley.
Fletcher, I saw from his scowl, was in a very different kind of mood. He was rifling through our cooking supplies, picking up containers and banging them down again with unnecessary force. “Hey,” I said tentatively.
“Hey.” He didn’t look at me.
“Is something wrong?”
“How could you tell?” He slammed a glass jar onto the table.
I winced. “Are you pissed at me?”
Now he looked up in surprise. “God, no. Of course not. I’m pissed at the Echelon. And the Fleet. And whoever was in the room when they decided to put you back on that damned ship.”
Bright Shards (The Vardeshi Saga Book 2) Page 26