“No touching,” said the same voice.
“Particularly if she’s a Godan’s female,” muttered another.
“Why?” she asked, but no one answered.
Mira saved her question for the following day during her lunch with Ahnyis where she was greeted with exciting news.
“Vochem has received permission to open a clinic inside the city. He didn’t think he would be allowed the funding, but Roark sent word this morning. Vochem will change his title to Doctor to help put the humans at ease and take Dr. Mason with him which means I will be going out into the city, too.” Ahnyis’s cat-like features broke into a grin.
“I’m happy for you.” Mira smiled. She knew how much the female hated being confined to the grounds within the base. “But I’m confused. How does allowing Mason to go mean you can go, too?”
“I have been ordered to keep him on my leash.”
“Ah, we’re not talking literally, are we?” Mira asked warily.
“I wish it was. Then I’d have to take him home, too,” Ahnyis giggled. Her tailed rippled and snapped behind her. “Nevertheless, he is my responsibility and I am under Roark’s orders.” She squirmed in her chair.
“You like him, don’t you?” Mira asked with a grin. “You like him a lot.”
“Oh, Mira, I do, and he likes me, too. He stroked my tail yesterday. My tail! I was so excited, I almost peed my pants.”
Since learning that particular idiom, Ahnyis almost peed her pants at everything. Mira laughed aloud, though she wondered if Mason knew his action was considered a sexual overture. She decided to mention it to him when she had the chance. Now, however, she had her own questions to ask.
“Ahnyis,” she began quickly before she lost her courage, “Yesterday in class...” She told the healer everything that happened and finished with, “But no one would tell me why.”
Ahnyis shrugged and though she hadn’t blushed before, her cheeks now burned a dusky violet. Her tiny front teeth left little dents in her bottom lip. “They were probably embarrassed to talk about it. Godan males are very...” she paused, searching for a word, and nodded when she found it, “protective of their women. Very protective,” she emphasized. “It’s deeply ingrained in their culture. Feuds have begun because of it and in the early days, even a few wars.”
Something in the pit of Mira’s stomach knotted. She’d always been attracted to dominant men. Unfortunately, what she first perceived as protective strength usually translated as jealous control.
Her last and worst relationship with such a man left her fearful of her own preferences. For the next few years she only dated men with more passive personalities, but never found a satisfying relationship with any of them, either. Then Earth was invaded and dating and sex became a distant memory.
Wouldn’t it be just her luck that her reawakening interest would be for a man whose whole society was based on what she’d tried so hard to avoid?
“Just how protective are we talking here?” she asked cautiously.
“Extremely would be the word I’d use.” Ahnyis said it as if it was a good thing. “Godan males see their women as precious gifts to be protected and cared for. They can’t help it if they sometimes get carried away. It’s embedded in their culture. A man would be a fool to approach any woman already spoken for. I’m sure there are exceptions, of course, but the penalties would be severe.”
“Right. So what has that to do with me?”
Her friend gave a hesitant shrug and then said bluntly, “They think you’re Roark’s female.”
That came as a surprise. “What do you mean, Roark’s female? I only met the man once.”
Ahnyis sighed happily. “Yes, and you’ve asked about him every day since you returned. Sometimes two or three times a day,” she added with a snicker and then changed her tone to soothing. “There’s nothing wrong with that. He asks about you, too.”
“He does?” Even to her own ears, she sounded girlishly giddy. She took a breath and tried again. “He does? How odd. What kinds of questions does he ask?”
She obviously failed the course in nonchalance because Ahnyis was assailed by a fit of giggles. Mira thought those giggles could become annoying under certain circumstances. Like now.
“What?” she snapped.
“I don’t know,” Ahnyis answered, suddenly sober. “He doesn’t ask me and Vochem won’t say. He probably thinks I’d repeat it, which I would, but that’s not the point. You could ask Harm or Mohawk or any of the other half dozen spies he has keeping watch over you.”
“That’s taking stalking to a whole new level,” Mira grumbled, but it didn’t have the same creepy feel as when Anthony had stalked her years before.
She almost wished she had a spy system of her own.
First Commander Roark was away, supposedly observing his new troops and their performance in the field. Mira not only dreamed about him at night, her mind wandered to thoughts of him during the workday. She was, after all, a normal, healthy woman and he was an attractive man. And yes, those dreams had slowly become nightmares after she overheard Harm grousing about that ‘god cursed fool’ who wasn’t observing anything.
Roark was in the midst of it, fighting alongside the rank and file. Wasn’t it only natural that she should be concerned and ask questions?
“You know how he hates this end of it.” Harm was speaking to Vochem, but she couldn’t help overhearing his complaint. “He wants to be out there on the field where he belongs. He’s a warrior, born and bred, and you know the boy, stubborn as they come. He’ll do what he wants, but I’ll tell you this, he damn well better find another body to be the base’s babysitter. I was meant to die in battle and not to die of boredom while holding some prissy assed officer’s hand.”
Mira had seen the bombed out buildings and seen the bodies being carried from them, including those of her parents. She’d searched through the rubble of those buildings for the missing and injured, but those images faded before the visions she created in her mind of the golden god bloodied and fallen on the battlefield.
She wasn’t obsessed. Her days and evenings were full. She didn’t have time to be obsessed, but the seeds of worry were planted and they grew in those in-between moments when her mind wasn’t fully occupied. She needed to know that he was alive and safe. She didn’t think her questions and concern had been that obvious.
“He’s the First Commander. He probably wants to know everything that’s happening on the base,” she said, more to convince herself than Ahnyis. “He’s hardly spoken to me and all I wanted to do was thank him for all he’s done.” Mira tipped her water bottle up higher than she needed to so Anyis wouldn’t see her face.
“That’s just it, all he’s done.” Her new friend raised her slender fingers one by one. “He interfered at the gate.”
“He would have done that for any woman,” Mira argued, and was a little disappointed when Ahnyis agreed.
“You’re right, he would have, but he wouldn’t have carried her to the clinic. He would have called for someone to come get her. Even as you slept, he stayed with you as long as he could and then told me not to leave you alone with Mason.” She giggled. “Godans are very possessive of their women.”
“You already said that, Ahnyis, a number of times. Roark was just being...”
“Ah,” the healer said sharply and held up her hand, “Stop making excuses and let me finish. I know a bit more than you do about this. He created a position for you, two in fact.”
“Wait! Are you telling me that everyone thinks I only got the job because I’m his, his...?”
Ahnyis nodded. “Yes, because it’s true, but don’t look so glum. They’re happy about it. You’re keeping Mohawk out of everyone’s hair and he actually says nice things about you. The officers thought they were going to have to sit through stupid, boring lectures and instead they’re enjoying the classes. Vochem says he’s heard over and over that if they’d had teachers like you, they might have done better in school. You’re
fun and interesting and,” she giggled again, “easy to look at. They’re very eager to get out into the city and see if they can find more females like you.”
Mira wasn’t sure what to think about all this. She didn’t like the idea of being paid for an artificial job that meant nothing more than a paycheck for the boss’s supposed girlfriend.
She frowned and took another bite of her sandwich, taking note of the real meat filling between the slices of fresh bread. On the other hand, that artificially induced paycheck was already improving their lives. They finally had enough to eat and Wynne mentioned looking for a place to rent where they’d have running water.
It would certainly make things easier for her sister, and Wynne deserved that. The war years had stolen a lot from Wynne. She never complained, but the loss of her opportunity to attend college and have an adult social life had to hurt. David might benefit, too, if he didn’t feel like they were living like rodents, and in a new neighborhood, he might find new friends.
Ahnyis had stopped nibbling at her crackers and cheese. She reached over and prevented Mira from taking her last bite of sandwich.
“He’s a good male, a good man,” she corrected and smiled. “He and my brother were at school together. I’ve known him since I was a little thing. He was my first boyfriend, you know.” She blushed a little, but her smile was sweetly melancholy. “Not really, but for one night I got to pretend. Our family wasn’t wealthy, you see, but my parents worked hard and bought Vochem and me the very best education. There wasn’t much left over, so at school, even though our tuition was paid, we were still looked at as charity cases. There was a girl in my class, Sellephia. She was rich and she was beautiful and she was mean. During our final year, she sent me an invitation to her annual ball and addressed it to The Ash Maiden. That’s a character in a story about a poor girl who can’t go to the royal ball.”
“But she goes and she wins the heart of a prince,” Mira concluded, happy to have found yet again, another commonality between their cultures. She smiled at the healer’s surprise. “We have that story, too. We also have Sellephias.”
Ahnyis nodded. “Then you’ll understand. It was a cruel joke, and when Roark found me, I was curled in a ball with the invitation in my hand, sobbing my heart out. He said he’d take care of it and the next thing I knew, I was being summoned to his mother’s house where she and her dressmaker were redesigning one of her gowns for me. Roark took me to that ball as my escort. I was a mere girl and he was a grown man, already a warrior of note.
He waited on me, fed me cakes from his fingers, brought me punch from the crystal bowl. We danced all night and his eyes never strayed from my face. I was the envy of every girl there and for that one night, he made me a princess. I was in love.”
“And?” Mira asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
Ahnyis laughed. “He took me home and I puckered up for a goodnight kiss.” She sighed like the teenaged girl she’d been. “It didn’t happen. He kissed me on the forehead and said, ‘Thank you, Buttons. I had a wonderful time.’
“I was heartbroken for about a week. And then he went off to war and I followed my brother in the Healing Arts and we followed Roark into the military as Healers. Except for a few years when he was gone on a mission, he’s used his connections to see that Vochem is always posted with him. Where Vochem goes, so do I.”
“I’m telling you this because I want you to know what kind of man he is. He has no wife. He’s had his share of women, but he’s never claimed one as his or offered his favors.”
Mira started to laugh. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you? I haven’t even had a kiss on the forehead. I haven’t seen him since the day he brought me to your clinic.”
“I don’t think you can blame him for that. You...”
A green light began flashing over the door to the clinic, followed by a steadily paced alarm coming from outside that sounded remarkably like a telephone busy signal. Anyis tapped the small comlink on her shoulder that all base personnel wore.
“Healer Ahnyis here.” She cocked her head, listening for a moment. “I’m on my way.” She stowed away the remains of her lunch and began gathering what she would need. “Sorry to rush off. Transport coming in. Wounded.”
Mira popped the last of her sandwich into her mouth. “No problem. I have class in twenty minutes anyway. I didn’t think you worked at the hospital.”
The clinic was a place for the treatment of any of the everyday illnesses the military personnel might suffer from. Though other healers spent a few hours there each week, Ahnyis was in charge and worked there fulltime. Anything that needed treatment beyond an office visit was referred to the hospital which stood in the far corner of the base.
“You won’t be having classes this afternoon. Using a transport means a heavy number of casualties. All hands are needed. The officers will be busy.”
“Can I help?”
“Yes. It’s probably going to be a mess. We don’t have nearly enough medical personnel. Vochem is furious about it.”
Mira left her things behind and followed Ahnyis.
Chapter 5
The landing pad was located at the back of the base and people were running toward it from all directions. A red cautionary circle was painted around the pad and everyone crowded behind it like runners before the race. The monstrous beast hovered for a moment and then settled into place. Its opening door was the firing of the starter’s pistol. Personnel swarmed the ship and began off-loading the stretcher bound injured.
“Follow me.” Ahnyis handed Mira a clipboard and a small box of color coded tags. “Tag them, make notes, tuck the note under the tag.”
What looked like chaos was actually an organized system of triage. Each patient was assessed and tagged according to the severity of the injury. As the last stretcher was unloaded, Roark appeared in the transport’s doorway carrying a badly injured man in his arms. On the limp hanging arm of the victim, a black band with red markings was clearly visible. It signified the soldier he carried was a Medic.
Being the closest available healer, Ahnyis moved to him while calling for a stretcher.
“He caught it while we were loading the injured,” was Roark’s terse explanation.
Seeing the massive and blood drenched wound to the young medic’s side, and noting his barely moving chest, Mira thought he would be tagged with a black card to denote a hopeless condition, but she was wrong. Ahnyis called him a green and told the soldiers loading him onto a stretcher to move him to the front of the line.
The walking wounded were already beginning to fill the area. Covered in the medics’ blood, Roark walked among them talking, touching, nodding his encouragement, and sharing his pride and strength with them. Watching him and the way the men responded to him, Mira felt her own chest swell with pride and respect. He stayed with them until the last man was seen to. Then he came to Mira.
“Walk with me.”
He said nothing more as they walked together through the base, so Mira opened the conversation.
“Ahnyis says you don’t have enough personnel to cover what’s needed in the hospital. You could hire civilians to do most of it.”
“I’ll look into that as soon as I can find the funding. I have to figure out where the money is going in this place first. The books are a mess. Everything about this place is a mess.”
“I could work at the hospital,” she offered. “In the clerical area, I mean.”
Roark kept walking, but looked down at her. “You don’t like the employments you’ve been given?”
“I like them well enough, but I’d rather be doing useful work than doing jobs someone made up just to be kind.”
He glanced down at her again, but did not return her smile. “Your duties are not a kindness. They are necessary.”
“Not as necessary as the hospital.”
“That is my decision to make, not yours. I do not wish you to be subjected to the sight of the casualties of war.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with such things.” He sounded as if he meant it.
“No one should have to deal with such things. I won’t lie to you, First Commander. I’m grateful. I need the work. I have a family to support, but I’d rather be doing something useful.”
They’d reached the clinic and he held the door for her. “What you’re doing is useful and if we are to make any kind of peace with the people here, it must be done. Perhaps the jobs were created sooner than they might have been, but they would have been created nonetheless. You are best qualified to fill them.”
He passed the room where Mira and Ahnyis had eaten lunch and entered the treatment room where he began to unbuckle the armor that covered his chest and arms. He looked like he was going to toss it aside, so Mira held out her hand for it and he passed it to her. It was surprisingly lightweight. Inspecting it out of curiosity, she found a split in the side of it about six inches long. She leaned around Roark’s body where he had twisted to the side. Blood soaked his shirt where the armor should have covered.
“My God, you’re hurt.” She immediately began searching for something with which to clean the wound.
Roark peeled his shirt up over his head. “It’s nothing serious. An annoyance. It’s the armor that cut, not the weapon.” He moved to take the cleaning pad from her, but she held it away.
“Easy for you to say when you can’t see it,” she huffed in exasperation. “You should have had one of the healers looking at it. Get up on the table and raise your arm so I can see it.”
Roark (Women Of Earth Book 1) Page 5