Weight of Gravity

by Sheron Wood McCartha

  “So you think Deidre plans to blow up the station?” Adrian squinted at Richard.

  Richard tapped Adrian’s desk, thinking it through. “In spite of Joel’s vision, it’s been my experience that any intelligent person would rather take over the station than blow it up. First, because this is a series of attached independent modules, and destroying the entire station would be difficult. On the other hand, taking it over would give Terrans strength on the ground and control in the sky.”

  “On the ground?”

  “The Homestead may be developing an army of android soldiers.”

  “Really? I can see the space station is spread out and capturing it would be difficult.”

  Richard shook his head. “It might be easier than you think. Blow in gas through the ventilation shafts. Everyone falls over unconscious, and the attackers walk in with gas masks and take over. Not hard at all. I’ve seen it done.”

  Adrian pushed back, stood up, and started pacing. “Deidre could open the utility panel to give them access, and it would only take a few knowledgeable men to disperse the gas. But …”

  A dark expression flashed across Adrian’s face as he realized how vulnerable the station was. “Who are they? Who is organizing this? And what do they want?”

  “Exactly,” Richard responded. “I have no idea.”

  Adrian paused mid-stride. “I let Deidre go because I want to find the big fish behind this organization, and she’s only a minnow.”

  Richard laughed. He was learning how badly his people underestimated their women. “Don’t be too sure of that. I’ve learned women wield more power than you might think, old friend.”

  Adrian gave him a long, considering stare. Richard imagined the names of women the stationmaster knew rippling through the man’s thoughts. “All right, I’ll give you some of that,” Adrian conceded, “but there’s someone with clout on Alysia coordinating the Terrans, and it’s not some sewing circle.”

  Richard tapped his index finger on the desk. “We need to find out who’s coordinating this. I think it’s someone with position and power, and if that's so, I know where we can start hunting for them. I might have to do some fancy talking to get my source to cooperate,” he paused and smiled, “or, perhaps, I can use one of your minnows to convince him to help.”

  ***

  As Solanje swirled gracefully away from him and then returned, Bashar couldn’t help but feel that he had been snookered, once again, into spying for Richard Steele. Here he was in the grand ballroom of what had formerly been the king’s palace but now housed influential government offices of the Democratic Union. In this spacious room, an intricate golden-domed ceiling supported impressive, crystal chandeliers, along with a shining marble floor that created elegance and grandeur for powerful people from all over Alysia to come and dance.

  As his wife spun back into him, she draped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Calm yourself. We do this for the station, my darling.”

  He went mind to mind.

  For the station? Lompir dung. I smell the rank odor of the deadly duo of Steele and Walker in this venture.

  She stopped and pushed out, leveling an intense gaze at him. When we returned from space and couldn’t live on Alysia due to the gravity and the anguish mental telepathy caused by all those people invading our minds, the Station admitted the Seeker’s crew and treated us like family. But most Alysians shunned us, saying we were no longer human. Husband, we owe this station. If we can stop an attack, we must. Steele and Walker do not factor into the choice.

  He sniffed the air, aping the smell of fresh dung. I find that hard to believe.

  With a tug, he drew her back into his arms and tried to remember the steps to the dance he had recently practiced, but it was hard to concentrate with her body pressed so tightly against his. And his ornate outfit made it harder. He felt like a fool in the tight-fitting dark pants with gold waistcoat and jacket that revealed every contour of his body. He longed to wear the now familiar loose kassock. However, dress protocol for this formal Tygel Ball extravaganza dictated otherwise.

  I warn you; reading minds is a painful process, and you’ll be shocked at what people think.

  I’m not a naive child. She playfully nudged him with a hip, causing a flare of desire to shudder through him.

  No, not a child, I admit.

  Her devilish smile revealed that she knew exactly what she was doing. In retaliation, he whirled her out and around, hoping to make her dizzy. All she did was laugh as her long dark hair spun out, brushing past dancing couples.

  Earlier, she had done up her hair in a complex braiding pattern that Ching T’Karre matrons wore, but he had insisted she dismantle it and wear her hair unbound.

  “I am a wife and mother. I am too old to wear my hair loose like a young maiden,” she had retorted. “It would be improper.”

  But he knew her better and, at the last, his wife had complied to please him, so she said, although he was mindful of her secret delight in flaunting her glorious locks. When she stood quietly, they flowed down her back like a dark shining river. But at this moment, he reveled in watching the shimmering strands spin out as she whirled around the dance floor.

  A melodic laugh alerted him. He saw Souci and J’ai Jen glide by, dancing in each other’s arms.

  “Rhagma be praised, I hope that snake hasn’t recruited Souci to be his agent too.” He frowned.

  Sliding in close, so their bodies once more moved in synch, Solanje answered, “More likely the recruit is J’ai Jen with his serious cyber skills.”

  “They are children.”

  “You’re not much older than they are, my sweet.”

  “Souci calls me Uncle.” He snorted.

  “As she should.”

  “She makes me feel old when she does that.”

  Laughing, she retorted, “Time passes differently when you are out in space, old ancient one. This world aged faster than we did.”

  “Sadly, true.”

  Gradually, with several professional-looking twirls and only two missteps, he eased them toward an open balcony. “Lower your blocks slowly,” he said, tipping his head toward Khalib Allfyre who lounged against the railing, drink in hand.

  As the music slowed, they stepped outside the dance floor and sauntered toward the open balcony, picking up drinks off a roving waiter’s tray.

  To Bashar’s left, an aging matron sniffed her disdain. “Have you noticed that female Terran captain talking with the President?” Her gown is a dreadful color, particularly against such pasty skin. And the style is so last season.

  “She looks like an exotic doll,” her male companion answered. I’d like to sail her personal ship.

  On his right, another feminine voice chirped, “Ah, here is your distinguished husband.” With a nose the size of a great mountain and a forehead to match. “So nice to meet you again. How are you doing?” The woman put out a hand.

  A tall, broad-faced man with an eye-catching nose bowed. “Wonderfully,” he said. Aside from the bankruptcy.

  Bashar winced. He’d forgotten how awful it was to read minds. Next to him, Solanje choked. “Oh, that was revealing,” she said.

  Taking a deep breath, he forced his attention over toward Khalib. Even though the ex-nomad appeared to be listening intently to his companion, in reality his mind was wandering throughout the room, where flashing images of various women dominated his thoughts. It landed on a laughing Souci, and paused. His attention wandered to Bashar approaching, then abruptly snapped to Solanje.

  There’s a beautiful woman. No wonder my cousin has hidden her away. I wonder what she’s like between those luscious legs.

  Next to him, Solanje choked and blushed.

  “Maybe you should put up your blocks,” Bashar suggested. “Khalib is not delicate with his thoughts, and they tend to run in a certain direction.”

  Not on your life. This should be revealing.

  Solanje put out her hand to Khalib. “Bashar, please introduce me to y
our handsome cousin.”

  Khalib straightened, his bulky body rising to full height. His dark eyebrows lifted, and a smile peeked out from beneath a new, carefully trimmed beard.

  Solanje. Behave.

  Bashar realized it was a hopeless request. “Khalib Allfyre, this is my wife, Solanje De Fyre Elitas.”

  Khalib bent over her proffered hand to place a moist, beard bristled, kiss on it. He lifted his face to Bashar. “A very beautiful wife for a most lucky man.”

  Tapping the arm of a roving waiter, he exchanged his empty glass for a full one. He slanted a look at Bashar. “Has the young one left your meager harem already? How will you grow your family properly with so few women under your tent? The rumor is that she is promised to another now.”

  Bashar shrugged. “I had to obtain a valuable crystal to trade for two worthless Terran women.”

  Bashar, not so!

  “Ah, I wondered how you were able to accomplish such an amazing feat. Crystals are scarce, and few seem willing to part with them.”

  “To achieve such a feat, I applied to J’ai Jen, who I knew desired a wife. He offered certain valuable, unique services to Shenji T’Kai, owner of the only crystal mine in the Ching T’Karre, who gave J’ai Jen a crystal as payment for those services. With that crystal, J’ai Jen bought from me my contract for Sousarissa T’Kai. Then, with crystal in hand, I bought the two Terran females from you. A simple transaction if you know the interests.” He spread his hands, palms upward.

  Khalib’s eyes widened at Bashar’s explanation and laughed at its conclusion. “There were also two lompir included in the terms if I recall correctly, but still my estimation of you as a trader rises.”

  Bashar sipped his drink. Leveling a gaze at Khalib, he said, “As does mine. I, too, amaze myself at times.”

  “However, what have you gained to make all that cost and effort worthwhile? Gratitude from Richard Steele? Favors from his Terran wife?” A toothy grin emerged.

  “Ah, it’s not Steele or his wife that reward me, but my own dear wife.” Here, he made sure he delivered a blazing smile in her direction.

  Solanje eyes sparkled as she bowed her head, her shining hair spilling forward.

  Bashar explained, “Souci is her niece, and her happiness is necessary for my own wife’s contentment.”

  Khalid considered the dancing couple. “Her niece does appear happy with the match.”

  “Oh, absolutely.” Bashar’s own eyes twinkled with amusement. “They are both very much in love.”

  “And if a wealthy, mature man of prominence should desire her addition to his harem and offer extremely generous terms?”

  “Touch her, Khalib, and your life is forfeit.”

  Khalib tapped his lips with his two fingers. “You have not?”

  “The contract included a claim of purity. It was verified by Sousi’s own fingerprint. More than I protect the girl, not the least is her considerable husband to be.”

  “The boy appears quite young for such worry.”

  “Nonetheless, J’ai Jen makes a dangerous and formidable adversary. Tread carefully there, cousin.”

  Khalib shrugged. “There are too many beautiful women in the world to fret over a mere girl. Be at ease.” But Khalib continued to stare at the couple with lust flavoring his thoughts.

  As Bashar worried over what his cousin might do, two Terrans joined Khalib. Bashar probed their thoughts as they arrived, but like all of their kind, their minds were as blank as bricks.

  “My new friends.” Khalib flapped a hand at the two.

  “You have friends?” Bashar lifted his eyebrows.

  Khalib laughed and sloshed his drink at Bashar. “They may soon be neighbors.” Khalib turned to the two distinguished looking Terrans. “This is Captain Sam Spencer and Captain Henry Longstaff. They are interested in land not far from mine. Captain Spencer and Captain Longstaff, may I present Bashar De Fyre Elitas and one of his beautiful wives, Solanje.”

  I am your only wife.

  He lives in ignorance.

  Enlighten him.

  At the proper moment. Fear not. This is not a time for ego.

  He returned his attention to the Terrans. The two bowed but obviously didn’t know the protocol for the proper greeting. Their bows were relatively shallow and didn’t acknowledge his high social status. Bashar returned their insulting bows with a head nod.

  There, that will show them their ignorance.

  If they are ignorant of our protocol, how will a head nod insult them?

  I’ll feel better.

  Oh, your feelings are what is important, then?

  Always.

  As you have so recently said, this is not a time for ego.

  Pushing his wife’s comments from his thoughts, Bashar became aware that the taller blond Captain Spencer was speaking to him. “The Honorable Khalib Allfyre says that you have a large residence only a day’s ride from him.”

  “He is correct. I recently rode to visit.”

  “We are looking for land in that area to set up our own residence and will pay generously for it.”

  Several large stacks of money imaged in Khalib’s mind. He hummed while he observed their conversation.

  Bashar felt a nudge from Solanje and saw Richard Steele and his wife making their way toward them.

  “And here are your friends, no?” Khalib turned to the approaching couple. “Were your Terran acquaintances happy to have their lost women returned?” Khalid’s smile revealed large white teeth within the manicured beard.

  “Our thanks are boundless,” Richard answered, offering a bow, not too deep but more than a head nod.

  At the sight of Elise, Khalib’s bushy eyebrows rose.

  Such a delightful morsel, but perhaps tough meat to chew.

  Richard took the cue. “May I present my wife, Mrs. Richard Steele. Elise, this is the Honorable Khalib Allfyre, who graciously offered us hospitality when we visited his home recently. He found and safely returned two of your missing people.”

  Her mouth tightened as she studied the nomad. After a pause, she bowed her head, saying, “A pleasure to meet you. I understand you profited well from the rescue.”

  Bashar could tell the woman was angry but trying to remain courteous. He also noticed the tight grip Richard had on her arm.

  She shook off the grip and reached for a drink from a passing waiter’s tray.

  Khalib tilted his head toward the two Terrans. “Do you know Captain Spencer and Captain Longstaff?”

  She leveled a look at Khalib. “Absolutely. Every Fleet Commander knows her captains.” She forced a smile. “Good to see you looking so well, Sam … Henry.” She took a sip of her drink, staring at them over the rim.

  Their pleasure at seeing their ex-Commander was apparent through their bright smiles. “Commander, good to see you. The rumor was you got married.” They eyed Richard, and the smiles became polite.

  “Yes. This is my husband, Director Richard Steele.”

  Richard leaned forward to shake their hands. “Just call me Richard.”

  “Then call me Sam.” Captain Spencer gazed around the room. “Ah, we remember the help you gave us when we were trapped on that damned space station.”

  Henry sipped his drink and said, “It’s still somewhat sticky up there.”

  “Yes, and they need more supplies. I know. I’m working on it.” Richard glanced at his wife. “Soon any who want to immigrate will be able to leave.”

  Bashar heard him think, Darn hard to get the bureaucrats to open the purse strings or to authorize immigration papers.

  “Henry, Sam.” Behind him, Bashar heard a strongly accented voice that held a Diechwrathe growl. A heavyset giant of a man strode up, followed by a tall, pale companion. The white hair, brilliant blue eyes, and arrogant expression suggested Islia as his friend’s origin.

  What are they doing talking to Steele? The belligerent thought belonged to the man with the Diechwrathe accent. Then Bashar heard, Frag, what are those two up t
o, talking to him, of all people. The big man was glaring at the two Terrans.

  Arriving at the group, he said, “Director Steele, permit me to introduce myself? I’m Kane DeGrace, and this is my associate, Landon Snow.”

  Richard shook their hands and proceeded to make introductions all around.

  With all the people crowding close to him, Bashar heard an avalanche of thoughts all mixed together and raised his shields halfway to protect himself. Still, he felt overwhelming anxiety within the Isliander and anger from the Diechwrather. Next to him, Solanje coughed. Her eyes slid sideways to meet his. She was feeling the tumult, too.

  Even Richard appeared uncomfortable. He shot a look at Bashar. What’s he hearing to make him look like that?

  Khalib leaned back on the railing, taking in the whole scene, his white teeth still gleaming against a tan face and dark beard. This should be interesting.

  If those two Terrans let slip our plans, I’ll gut them. Bashar thought this came from Kane, but he wasn’t sure.

  “Weren’t you friends with Elliott Stratton?” Elise directed her attention to Henry Longstaff. I recognize you from his group on the station before he was sent downside.

  Oh, Frag. If that woman connects me to that troublemaker and figures out our plan, we’re screwed.

  Bashar lowered his shields slightly to receive clearer transmissions, but the ensuing flood of thoughts made him wince. Behind him, a couple danced at the edge of his receiving ability. He dances so well. I wonder if he is as good a lover?

  Bashar forced his attention back to the discussion in front of him, blocking peripheral conversations. Henry was frowning. “I left before the troubles. Heard Elliot Stratton got arrested for trying to take over the station.”

  This idiot needs to shut his mouth.

  She better not find out my relationship with Elliot.

  The blonde has a nice ass on her.

  Bashar shook his head as the thoughts flooded in on him, but they felt like the exact information which Richard had asked him to find … well, not that last thought. He glared over at Khalib who was ignoring the conversation and studying the room for possible later amusement.

  Kane flicked a surreptitious glance over at Richard. Bashar went on alert as he heard, Our shuttle is almost ready. Won’t Richard Steele be surprised when he loses his space station?