Murrrsi’s mouth opened like she was stunned. “Thank you, Delegate.”
“You’re welcome. These are unusual circumstances. Hamloc sends along his well-wishes.” Yliriu nodded. “Now, we’ve decided to ease the strictness of the quarantine as much as possible for you, as this is a special case. You will find you now have access to a few things not previously available to sectilians. You will have use of the USR network of communication relay points and access to news feeds, and you may directly communicate with anyone in Teracian space.”
Well, that was something. Small, but something. Jane visibly sagged with relief.
“Supplies will be ferried to you by drone as needed. You are honored guests of Terac. You do not need to fear starvation or want. We will supply you. You have only to ask. However, be aware that any individual who opts to pay a visit to either of your vessels will be obligated to live out the remainder of the quarantine period with you. No exceptions.”
Ron straightened. “Can we leave the system?”
The delegate raised her eyebrows and considered his question for a few moments. “I would advise that no more than one ship leave the system. But be forewarned—a stop at any USR world would be considered an act of war and would be acted upon swiftly. And if both ships were to leave, I could not guarantee that either would ever be permitted back into USR space.” Yliriu pursed her lips and got even more serious looking. “You must show the delegations that you are serious applicants if Terra should choose to join the USR, which of course is what we’re hoping—and, indeed, expecting. I would strongly advise that your flagship remain here.”
Ron nodded. “But one ship could make arrangements to visit an unpopulated world to gather a needed material? The USR would not object to that?”
Yliriu’s eyes moved around in thought. “There should be no objections. It would be best if you registered your plans with my office ahead of time. And you should be aware that both ships have been tagged with tracking devices. We’ll be keeping an eye on you.” She glanced off screen. “If there are no other questions…?”
Jane stood. “What of the criminal Kai’Memna, his assertion that he has spoken with the Swarm, and the threat that may pose to Terra and every USR world?”
Yliriu dipped her head to one side in a sort of nod. “There is a separate, ongoing inquest into this matter. You will be called to testify, remotely of course. Be prepared for this process to take most of the quarantine period. The judicial system moves slowly here. We have sent out messages to scouts that track Swarm pods and are currently waiting for the answering reports to these queries. That will inform the evaluation of your assertions and any legal proceedings. Is there anything else?”
No one spoke.
“My contact information will be the first communique in your queue. Please call if you need anything.” The screen went blank.
“Wow,” Ron said in an expressionless voice. “Wow.”
Huna took a couple of waddling steps closer to Ron. “You’re thinking of journeying to the Pliga That Was during this time?”
Jane still looked impassive. He thought maybe she was trying hard not to let her disappointment show. “It sounds like they have no objections. It would be a good use of the time.”
The rest of the group huddled together to talk about what all of this meant, but Alan couldn’t participate. He found himself pacing up and down the length of the cafeteria, his right hand squeezing the back of his neck.
How could he sit around here for two years? What would he do with himself for all that time? He had his experiments, true, but he was ready to start physical trials and he couldn’t do that here in populated space.
Jane had to stay. She had to be all diplomatic and shit. He understood that. And his place was with her, wasn’t it? That’s what real couples did. They stuck together through thick and thin.
On the other hand, a jaunt to Old Pliga wouldn’t take too long. They’d be apart, but absence and the heart and fondness and all that, right? It would be something useful to do. Ron might need him to solve a problem. These planet-hiding particles might need special containment, which might need to be built from scratch. He could do that. And they probably would need another set of hands. It might be hard work, gathering planet-hiding particles.
The others yakked for a long time. In the end, it was Ron and Jane talking after everyone else had left, and Alan still kept pacing. Thinking and pacing, though his thoughts seemed to spiral into ever-narrowing circles. He wasn’t getting anywhere.
When Ron took off, Jane slumped against the door. “Do you think you could pace back to our quarters now?”
“Yeah.”
They were most of the way to her rooms when she said, “You’re unhappy.”
He didn’t answer right away.
She grabbed his arm, stopped him in the middle of the corridor, and stuck her face up in his, questioning. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t do waiting around very well,” he said plaintively.
She nodded tiredly. “I know.” She started walking again. “You should go with Ron.”
28
BRAI WAS DELIGHTED.
It seemed that Dr. Alan Bergen was making the first move in the complex orchestration of asserting the foundation of friendship. Giving him distance and being patient had paid off as Jane had promised it would. But he had to be careful. This was a critical juncture. Reassurance would be key.
Brai quite simply had always been desperate to befriend the man. Alan was so different from any individual he had ever known. He applied his intelligence with a level of self-assurance and creativity that was intriguing. From the first, Brai had wanted to delve into that mind and try to understand how it worked, even to the point of trying to emulate his complex thinking processes in order to better himself. But his fervor had been his downfall in that endeavor.
But more recently Alan had trusted him, including him as an expert along with Pio, Jaross, and Ron as he worked through the design and physical implementation of some of his newest engineering ventures, which were extraordinary. Brai had taken those tasks quite seriously and the collaborations had borne abundant fruit.
And now here he was.
“This is just you and me talking, right? No one else can hear us, our thoughts? You’ll keep the contents of this conversation to yourself?” Alan asked as he strode along the walkway that circumnavigated Brai’s enclosure, turned, and then strode back again.
“Yes. Certainly. This is a private conversation,” Brai replied.
“I’d talk to Ron but he’s on the other ship and this has all gotten so fucking complicated. I’d have to talk to him through you, so you’d know what I was saying anyway, so I guess it just makes sense to talk to you because you’re here.”
“A logical conclusion.” Brai moved back so that he wouldn’t have to keep turning his body to track Alan’s movements. Being as still as possible might serve his goals better.
Alan’s hand went to the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like I could talk to Pledor or Tinor, you know? Or Murrrsi. I don’t even know her. You know what I mean, right?”
“I count Tinor as a dear friend, but I have noted a level of discomfort between the two of you since the misunderstanding over Jane’s gift. It is certainly true that different individuals seek different levels of intimacy from different people. This is natural. There are many factors involved and they are often of a personal nature, built by past experiences.”
There was a hitch in Alan’s stride. He paused. “Maybe this was the wrong thing to do…”
Brai stayed outwardly calm and motionless, but internally he berated himself for talking too much. He was pushing Alan away again, the way he had before, by trying too hard. The best approach would be to listen, coax Alan to speak—that was the reason stated that he had come there. Then perhaps something more natural might form. They had gotten along so well while they worked on Alan’s theoretical device. That had allowed this moment to come to fruition.
&n
bsp; He kept his mental voice as tranquil as possible. “Do you wish to talk about the journey to Huna’s Pliga That Was, or perhaps the quarantine?”
Alan swung around to face Brai. “This damn quarantine! I understand why they’re doing it, but it’s so frustrating to come all this way and then sit on our asses for years.”
“I know this feeling well.”
Alan waved his hand. “Well, yeah. You would. Fucking waiting is the worst. I thought that was behind me forever.”
“At least you will not be alone.”
Alan gestured vehemently with his arms. “But that’s just the thing. I probably will be, a lot of the time. Jane’s already in back-to-back meetings. She’s going to be busy, talking her way into Terac society or whatever, trying to find ways to protect Earth. That’s important. That’s what she has to be doing. And I don’t want to make it all about me, but I have to be realistic about who and what I am. I’m going to go nuts around here with nothing to do and no one to talk to most of the time.”
“I’ll be here.”
Alan threw himself down to the grating and leaned his back against the railing. “Yeah.” His foot twitched, and he used his fingers to fiddle with his shoe.
“Is there something wrong with your foot?”
“What? No.” Alan sighed. “I want to go with Ron. Jane told me to go with Ron. But for some fucking reason that feels wrong.”
“Why do you think it feels wrong?”
Alan had moved on to fiddling with the hem of his pants in a repetitive fashion. “First of all, splitting up the group is always a bad idea. I know you’ve never seen a horror movie, but that’s usually the first sign that something really, really bad is about to happen. Also, going upstairs, but I’m getting off point here.”
Brai was at a complete loss. He had no context for this comment, though he could say that when a group split, each half might be more vulnerable… but the moment was gone.
“Jane tells it like it is. If she says I should go, I know that she means it. She’s not sending mixed signals. She doesn’t really want me to stay. She doesn’t play games like that. And that’s amazing. And I appreciate that. But even so, I can’t help but think there could be a price to pay.”
Brai had lost his bearings. “Why would a person say one thing when they want the opposite?”
“I know, right? I’ve dated some women… well—that’s not important.” Alan was now pulling on the elastic of his socks. “Something could happen here and she might need me, and I’d be all the way out in Ye Olde Pliga. I’m not trying to be some macho jackass. I know she can take care of herself. But partners are supposed to be there for each other. That’s just what they’re supposed to do, you know? The thing is, if I stay, I might do just as much damage, because I’ll be bored. I’ll be a total fuckwit. She doesn’t need that. And we’d probably fight. Then we’d be stuck in the ship together, fighting for two years. It’ll ruin everything.”
Brai watched Alan picking at his socks and knew a few things for certain. Alan cared deeply for Jane and didn’t want to destroy their relationship. Alan found this decision extremely difficult. He was clearly perturbed. “I wonder—which of these two choices seems least palatable to you?”
Alan was silent. Brai sensed that Alan wasn’t sure, but he dared not delve deeper than just a casual level of communication. He hadn’t been given permission to explore Alan’s thoughts and feelings, and he knew now that it was wrong to do so to a human, especially one so unskilled with anipraxis.
After a few moments, Brai said, “Perhaps the best course of action is what you have already said: to take Jane at her word. Trust in her judgement and abilities. Know that she can handle whatever issues may arise.”
Alan spread his hands. His thoughts were anguished. “But what if Kai’Memna shows up while we’re gone?”
“Unlikely. Kai’Memna is a sociopath, but he’s not stupid. Even now, Jane is working toward having him recognized as the criminal he is. The delegates on Terac clearly want Earth on their side. There are small fleets of escort ships from all over the galaxy here that I have no doubt would take on any enemy of Jane Holloway, simply because she is terran, and all that means historically. Kai’Memna looks for the easy fight, not the hard one. He would not dare.”
Some tension seemed to go out of Alan’s body. “Yeah. That makes sense. She’s probably safer here than anywhere else in the galaxy right now.”
“I am certain of it.”
Alan leaned back and seemed to look at Brai for the first time. “Oh, man. I wasn’t thinking at all. I mean, you and your… I mean you two—you and Pio—will have to be separated too. I didn’t mean…”
“This is the life of a kuboderan. The difference is that you have a choice and I do not.”
29
“ARE YOU READY?” Jane asked Alan. He was lying on his back with his knees bent, balancing one of the larger sectilian semi-transparent touchscreen plexipads on his stomach. He was using it like a tablet computer though it was at least twenty inches wide. He seemed to be watching a newsfeed in Mensententia at low volume, his forehead wrinkled with determination as he attempted to digest the broadcast. “Yes and no,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows at him as she pulled back the filmy sheet and sat on the edge of the bed in one of his T-shirts to smooth on a little lotion. It had been a habit since her teens to put on lotion before bed, something her grandmother had encouraged that stuck with her. Sectilian lotion, though, took a little getting used to. It was very raw, mainly composed of unrefined oils, and was seen as more medicinal than a kind of daily skin care routine. So it didn’t smell nice, and a little went a long way. Too much, and her skin felt greasy.
He tore his eyes from the screen and looked up at the ceiling. “I got my crap together. But…” His voice sounded stressed. She knew he was torn. She wished he didn’t have to go, but she knew that he found it difficult to remain stationary for too long. The ten-month journey in the Providence had been very difficult for him. Though he’d have room to move around on the Speroancora, he’d still be relatively purposeless for two years if he stayed with her. This would be an uncomfortable separation, but also for the best.
She glanced back at him. “Second thoughts?”
“Yes, but I’ll go.”
“Murrrsi has decided to stay aboard,” she said, hoping that mentioning that an officer of sorts would be present might help him feel better about leaving. “She’ll be more comfortable here than on that tiny shuttle. She says she’s going to use the time to study for a promotion. Apparently there are tests that have to be taken to raise your rank.”
He drew his hand down her back. A pleasurable shiver went down her spine. “Ajaya and Tinor are resettled?”
Jane nodded and put away the small jar of cream in a wall protrusion near the bed. Ajaya and Tinor had mutually decided to switch places. “None of the sectilians are particularly comfortable here, given that the entire galaxy blames them for the squillae plague. And Ajaya felt she could be more help here with me, talking to delegates whenever possible. Many of the delegates have been very interested in meeting more humans. They bring it up a lot.”
“But Pledor is staying?” His eyes had been drawn back to the screen.
She sat down on her side of the bed with her knees drawn up to her chin. “Yes. His focus is on the Greenspace Deck. He barely notices where we are.”
Alan huffed. “No kidding. How did today go?”
“It was odd,” she said cheerfully, because the thought of how she’d spent it made her want to laugh. “I was invited to a dinner party and I went. Sort of.”
Alan rolled to his side and pushed himself up on an elbow. “How does that work?”
“They set up a monitor on some kind of trolley and put it out among the guests. When they went in to dinner, so did the trolley.”
“Huh.”
“Thank goodness for Brai. At one point I was speaking and said, ‘um,’ and Brai warned me not to say that anywhere n
ear a goyton because it’s sexually suggestive. He’s helping me navigate this. I don’t know what I’d do without his quick thinking and knowledge about all these different people.”
Alan crooked a brow. “Were there any of these goytons at the party?”
Jane chuckled. “Yes, actually, but she was across the room and I don’t think she heard me. Do you know, there is a species that sings instead of speaking? It terrifies me. I’m pretty sure I’m tone deaf. I don’t know how I’ll manage to talk to them.”
“Crap. That’s hard core. Does Ajaya sing?”
“I need to ask her. Mainly, it seems right now like I’m just a curiosity. There was a crowd around me all evening. Lots of questions about Earth and Earth culture, but it’s all very superficial. There’s surprisingly little interest in the topics of kuboderans, the quarantine of Sectilius, Kai’Memna, or even the Swarm. They just start talking about something else whenever I bring them up.”
“You’re a pop-culture sensation. It’s your five minutes of fame. They want you to sparkle.”
She sighed. “So it would seem. I don’t like feeling like a novelty. I’m gradually gaining some ground, though. Finding the right people to talk to. Forming tenuous alliances. It would be much easier in person. I don’t seem to be quite real to them.”
He shifted the plexipad a little. “You will be.”
She lay down on her side, facing him. His hand came to rest on her hip. “I’m real to you.”
“You sure are.” His eyes were still sort of sad, but his lips turned up in that feral smile that was just for her.
She inhaled deeply, ready to savor their last lovemaking session for a while. She was reaching for the plexipad in order to move it off him and set it aside when she heard it say dramatically, “There are terrans among us.” She frowned and sat up, grabbing the plexipad off Alan and pulling it to her.
On-screen, a host was seated across from a blue-tinged hominid with no neck. A thick, bony ridge ran from their nose over their head. When the reporter spoke to them, they turned bodily, revealing that the ridge got larger as it followed their spine, and though it disappeared under their clothing, Jane could see it clearly outlined going down their back.
Valence (Confluence Book 4) Page 19