by Sharon Rose
As soon as they arrived, Kena released Tevd’s craft into the bay, but she stayed out with her team until everything was safely positioned. She brought her craft in last, then sat, frowning at the closing bay doors. A voice from ex op command announced that pressurization was complete, but she still didn’t move.
Farian leaned forward, peering at her. “The bay is pressurized.”
“And you’re wondering why we’re still sitting here,” Kena said. “Open the hatch.” She pushed herself up from the low navigator couch and offered Farian a hand. “I’m worrying over what we didn’t accomplish, when I should be complimenting you. It makes my work far easier when I have a support navigator who thinks ahead.”
Farian smiled, but Kena couldn’t produce one of her own. Antony and Hrndl met her at the bottom of the hatch ramp. He took one look at Kena and put an arm around her shoulders.
Hrndl said, “Metchell tells me that Tevd and Theshain will recover. You brought everyone back safely, Kena. Well done.”
“Thanks, but…” Kena sighed. “What are we going to do? It’s not enough, and it’s contaminated!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
TarKeen found the lounge that VanDar had specified in an obscure corner on deck five. A far better meeting location than VanDar’s earlier, random selections.
TarKeen strolled between his PitKree friends, exchanging smiles, rather than interrupting discussion. A varied but cohesive group. Different professions united by their commitment to colonizing a new PitKree home-world. He’d drawn them together by merely showing his respect for their knowledge. His gaze alighted on some that VanDar had brought in. What technique did he use?
VanDar moderated as though the group belonged to him. Not unusual. TarKeen scanned expression and posture as he wound through the group, gauging the limits of their tolerance. Would VanDar’s presumption spark a disturbance tonight? Some of this company distrusted VanDar’s power lust. Others tolerated him as a necessary means to an end. A fluid distinction, since VanDar gained more acceptance as he forsook his rants and adopted calm reason. Or seemed to, at least. He wasn’t even pacing tonight. He rested a hand on a table beside JedKoom, who propped his folded arms against its edge and avoided looking at TarKeen. Odd.
No one could accuse them of plotting mutiny tonight, though TarKeen suspected VanDar still thought of it. Instead, they spoke of life-supporting infrastructure—water and energy. TarKeen paused at a table near VanDar’s, listening. After a few minutes, he exchanged a slight smile with ShenLee. It seemed, VanDar had paid attention to her earlier comments. A better use for her insight than spying. Could he finally be seeing reason?
TarKeen relaxed, a luxury not usually found in VanDar’s presence. Yet something was missing. What?
VanDar cut off someone who spoke of importing components, asking, “Could we not construct them in place? How could we accomplish that?”
Ah! That was it! TarKeen’s gut tightened. He searched his memory while talk flowed, finding the same pattern. Why had he never realized how pervasive this was?
LeckLa turned to him. “You say little, this evening, TarKeen. I grow curious for your thoughts.”
“I’m just enjoying the discussion.” He glanced around. “But one thing does puzzle me. The complete absence of any Laundun involvement in all these plans.”
“We cannot rely on that,” VanDar said.
“It is not Laundun nature to abandon colonists,” TarKeen said. “What scenario are you really suggesting?”
VanDar jerked his head to the left. He used that dismissive gesture far too often. “Phrase it however you like. We should prepare for all contingencies.”
Typical, but TarKeen wouldn’t let him obscure this. “Are you proposing that the PitKree reject Laundun involvement?”
VanDar drew himself up and made eye contact across the group. “This is a question worthy of deliberation, though I consider it a matter for the future. At some point, separation will become necessary. It is the only way to escape Laundun domination.”
A hush met his words. TarKeen glanced around. Wide eyes and parted lips on many faces. He let silence hang for several seconds, then asked, “What domination, exactly, are you referring to?”
VanDar spaced his words. “There is nothing we do on our own.”
LeckLa swept her hand in a circle around the gathering. “We are doing this on our own. Retaining Laundun goodwill does not negate our efforts. The PitKree will still be the colonizers.”
“The instant they help us,” VanDar said, “we again submit to their domination. They will declare it a PitKreelaundun achievement. A second PitKreelaundun planet.”
The silence grew heavy. Did they realize what this actually meant?
“No, VanDar,” TarKeen said. “We will be as we were before PitKreel shattered. Even then, some of them lived among us as friends. They did not control our government or claim our planet. Few Laundun will desire to leave their own home-world. PitKree will be the majority population of our new home. We will control our own government.”
“Who will agree to that?” VanDar asked. “The four Laundun ruling families will cast their votes to claim it, overriding the three PitKree ruling families. What a mockery that phrase is. PitKree ruling families.” Contempt spiked his words. “The PitKree never rule!”
A voice spoke from the crowd. “You’re describing the government of their own planet. The distribution is reasonable.”
“It filters down to all else,” VanDar said. “Consider the authority triads of every ship. Two Laundun, one PitKree.”
“We make up 30 percent of the PitKreelaundun population,” LeckLa said. “It is logical that we do not have a deciding vote on their planet. By the same logic, they will not have a deciding vote on our future planet. The ships we seek—we are capable of crewing them with more than half PitKree. We can make the case that the triad be two PitKree to one Laundun.”
VanDar shifted his weight from side to side, as though longing to pace. “They will never agree. Since the day PitKreel shattered and they forced their name upon us, they have always intended domination. The cycle of ruling families guarantees that the government will always have a majority of Laundun, regardless of the population.”
“PitKree agreed to that on purpose,” one of the men said. “We knew Elaundun was not our planet, and we would never have the right to take it from them. For that very reason, we have the right to occupy a new home-world, under our own government.”
TarKeen glanced at the speaker. Ah, yes, he was related to one of the PitKree ruling families. He would know this from his ancient memories.
“They will not permit it.” VanDar intoned the words as though declaring a certainty. “Laundun have always intended domination. They will never willingly release us.”
ShenLee asked, “How can you say that?” her tone as puzzled as her expression.
“Look at the authority structure we have at this moment,” VanDar said. “It proves my words.”
ShenLee stepped nearer, bringing her to the center of the room. “But you keep saying they have always intended domination. You must know that is not true. They do not dominate the other races we protect. Look at the Harnon. Some Laundun live on their home-world, and more on their second planet to help with colonization, but they take no part in government.” She pivoted as she spoke. “The Laundun would have been insane to turn their government over to us when we were bereaved and so few. That does not mean they intended domination.” She spread her hands. “They were caring for us. Look to your ancient memories. Are my words true?”
Most nodded or murmured agreement. A few clung to silence.
She ended her slow turn facing VanDar again. “The memories of your Kell ancestor, VanDar. Did your distant father believe he was being dominated or helped?”
“How could he not know we were being dominated?” VanDar said. “He would have been involved in the formation of the new government.”
“That was years later,” TarKeen said. The
instant VanDar’s glare flashed, the truth hit TarKeen. “What was it you just said of your distant father?” he asked. “‘How could he not…He would have been…’ Who speaks of their memories in such a way? What do you remember from the day PitKreel shattered?”
“P’fah.” VanDar sneered. “Ancient memories! My father was right. You all live so deeply in the past, you cannot see today.”
“Your father?” TarKeen asked. “What was he right about? Did he not pass the ancient memories of Kell to you?”
VanDar lifted his square chin. “He intentionally chose not to. Hear the reason!” He paused and calmed his panting breath. “Our government periodically interrupts the cycle of ruling for a generation within each family. They claim that enables change. But it does not, because every PitKree is anchored to the past! My father broke that cycle. I am the first generation freed from the weight of irrelevant history. Now, look what comes of it. I am the catalyst of change. Of real change that will set our people free of Laundun bondage.”
“What of your siblings?” TarKeen asked. “Did either of your parents pass ancient memories to any child of Kell?”
“No! They wanted all of us free.”
TarKeen stepped back from him. “Free? What are you free of? Knowledge? Experience? Wisdom? You’ve had decades to gain these. We have had centuries. Are you a catalyst or a usurper, riding the efforts of those you claim to lead?”
VanDar spoke through his teeth. “At least I lead, TarKeen. You wait. You speak of wisdom.” He spread his hands to encompass the room. “Will you now divide our company over this?”
“No, I will not divide us.” TarKeen said, firm and clear. “Not after I discovered these, who I respect so deeply. A group who can accomplish great endeavors. But I will not let you dominate them, nor pull them onto a path they never intended.”
TarKeen let his emphasis fade. “Families sometimes lose their ancient memories. There is no shame in this, yet you have hidden it. And there is yet another fact you obscure.”
Voices erupted from the crowd, spoken over each other. “What?” “What do you mean?” “What does he hide?”
TarKeen turned back to the group. “Consider this outcome. If we force separation from all Laundun, who, specifically, will colonize our new home-world?”
“We will, of course,” MorDen said.
TarKeen gestured, encompassing those present. “We and who else? How many crews will join in the extremism VanDar proposes? That won’t provide even a thousand colonists. What of the PitKree on peaceful ships? How would they reach us?” He flipped a hand. “Perhaps if VanDar convinces the Laundun that we cannot be trusted, captains may bring us unwilling colonists, stripped of their ship-board careers and ranks.”
Muttering rumbled through the room.
“But let’s think a little broader,” TarKeen said. “What of all our families on-planet? How could they reach us, without requesting Laundun help? VanDar does not seek only separation from the Laundun. He advocates separation from most of the PitKree. Not surprising, really, when you consider that Kell has severed itself from its ancient family. If some of us embrace treachery, how will our families on-planet fare among the Laundun who no longer trust them?”
“This is not acceptable!” a man declared. Similar words flowed from those who spoke.
The current had turned. TarKeen released a long breath, letting his muscles relax.
VanDar spoke above their voices, but without the angst of moments earlier. “If that is your decision, then that is how we will proceed.” His voice grew quieter as crowd noise diminished. “I have no desire to force my beliefs upon you. I only wanted you to see from all perspectives. And now that you have considered and chosen…” He inclined his head. “…I honor your decision. We will still pursue a new home-world together, for TarKeen is right. This group is talented and capable of accomplishing our goal.”
TarKeen’s gut twisted tighter with each calm word.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Antony went to the exercise room to meet Kena. They’d agreed to start their day off with a morning workout. She was late. He set resistance on the weight simulator and got started, but soon paused to contact her. “Hey, are you coming to work out?”
Her dramatic moan came over his computer. “Must I?”
“It’s a great stress reliever, you know.”
She came through the door at that moment. “So I’ve heard.”
She’d been on her way, after all. He smiled and closed his computer. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“It all depends on the music that goes with it.”
He laughed. “You are not taking your exercise seriously.”
“Not if I can help it.” She cued up her routine on the screen mounted above the mirror.
He kept an eye on her as he worked out. She had great flexibility and core strength from her mat routine. The inversions probably gave her decent arm strength. When she did them on the floor, anyway. He wasn’t so sure when she dangled from a fabric sling anchored to the ceiling. At least, she smiled during those exercises.
Antony added more resistance and worked through various muscle groups.
“How is exercise since your accident?” Kena asked, pulling herself up to recline in the fabric. “Did it cause a setback?”
“Far from it. My muscles healed stronger.” He stepped away from the weight simulator. “An unexpected benefit of having a hull dropped on me.”
“Maybe you should do it again.”
He enunciated his answer. “No, thank you, my little imp.” The tease in her eyes made him want to tickle her. Better not. “Do you ever do anything for stamina?” he asked.
She dismounted from the sling with a graceful twist. “I dance.”
“I mean exercise.”
“That’s the boring way to build stamina.” Her elfin look appeared. “Have you tried modern Celtic dance?”
“I didn’t know there was such a thing.” He looked sideways. “Does it involve those tap things they used to put on their shoes?”
“No taps. You need broader travels. I’ll just show you the basic steps first. Come beside me in front of the mirror.”
She walked through a dance, naming each step, then he followed in silence through a few more repetitions at a faster tempo.
“Right, then,” she said, sweeping a finger over her computer. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Is the accent necessary for Celtic dance?”
“Don’t be daft. We’re on the British Isles now, aren’t we?” She propped her computer on the mirror railing. “This piece should work for a beginner.”
The dance demanded all of his attention, with new steps and lively music. As the flow became natural, she added higher steps, kicks, and variations. She let the next piece play, a longer one with more movement across the floor.
When it finished, she asked, “What do you think?” She smiled up at him, her head tilted to one side and her eyes alight.
What did he think? That she was enchanting, and he wanted her in his arms. But he couldn’t say that. “Okay, I concede, you have stamina. Can you swing dance?”
“Of course, I can swing.”
“Then, I pick the next song.”
And, oh, could she swing! Two pieces later, he ended with reversing spins that brought her into his arms, laughing and swaying. Right where he wanted her.
“We just might need…” Kena said between breaths, “to ask Opyera to…throw together a bit of a gala.”
“Then, you must practice with me every day,” he said. “I have a ways to go on the Celtic part.”
“Fine by me.”
He supported her with one arm and touched his fingertips to the side of her face. She was so close—a kiss such a natural next step. Then, a cloud passed over her eyes—a change so distinct that he almost expected a London fog to fill the room.
She straightened and turned from him. “Where did I leave my towel? Oh, here.”
“Kena.”
�
��I need to shower.”
“Kena, what is it?”
She looked up at him, gripping the towel in both hands. “I can’t…” Her gaze flitted aside.
He stepped nearer and rested his hands against her shoulders. “Tell me.”
She lifted her eyes to his. “Maybe I’m assuming more than you intend, but…I can’t let things go too far.”
He considered a couple answers, then said, “Let me put it this way. You mean so much to me that, if you ask me to hold fast to friendship alone, then I will. Not because it’s all I want to offer, but because you ask it. I…I understand you might need that right now. But I would like to know why you can’t let…us…progress.”
She took a long time to respond. “There is a demand on me, which I must complete. I don’t know how it will end…or how it may alter me. I can offer you nothing until that’s resolved.”
He nodded and exhaled. “Then, all I ask is that you continue to receive my friendship. Agreed?”
She tried to smile, but it quivered at the corners. “Agreed.”
“Go ahead,” he said, “shower first. I’ll wait for you.”
She went to clean up, and he did a few stretches, trying to focus on them. Trying to get his mind to release what it could not change. No sooner did the water start in the shower, than a low trill thrummed from Kena’s computer, which she’d left propped against the mirror. He glared at it. He’d like to strangle whichever PitKreelaundun that was. Hadn’t she suffered enough torment at their hands already? But still they dogged her!
Kena returned to the exercise room. “It’s all yours.”
“I’ll be out soon,” Antony said. “By the way, your computer trilled.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks.”
She read the message and sighed.
After a few minutes, Antony returned, combing his wet hair back. “Anything important?”
“No.”
His hair pulled itself back into waves. He narrowed his eyes. “What are you staring at?”
She smiled. “Your hair. So quietly determined.”