Govi immediately hailed Conyod’s clanmates with an easy grin. “Good evening Erybet and Sletran. It’s been a long time since I last saw you around here. Have you met Dramok Kivokan?”
Erybet nodded his respect to the two doctors. “He is clanned to my commanding officer.
Good evening to both of you. I am sorry to be abrupt, but we are extremely late for an appointment. We’re here to collect Conyod and be on our way.”
Kivokan waved off Erybet’s explanation and Govi shook his head to show no offense was taken. “Not at all, please go. Is it the lottery? Conyod said you’d been given the opportunity.”
“Yes. Fortunately, she is as late as we are, so I hope there is no harm done.”
Conyod didn’t want another altercation with Erybet, but he felt he had to report to his superiors. “Just a quick moment to tell them the news of my patient, my Dramok?”
Erybet stiffened a little, but he nodded acquiescence. Maybe he didn’t want to fight anymore tonight either.
Not wishing to tax his leader’s patience, Conyod quickly said, “Dr. Govi, Rachel had a breakthrough. She spoke a few words today.”
Govi’s eyes went wide. “That’s wonderful! How did that come about?”
Conyod thought about his attempted bribe to get Rachel to talk, and what she’d wanted in return for that single word. His face warmed. He decided it would be best to not share all the details.
Instead, he offered the weak, “She’s been learning Kalquorian on her own. She feels it’s safer to speak our language instead of her English.”
He felt Erybet and Sletran’s gazes on him. No, he couldn’t get away with a lie around those two. Not even a half-truth.
Kivokan and Govi, on the other hand, exchanged excited glances. “That is an interesting work around. It cancels her fear of divulging secrets to the wrong people,” Kivokan mused.
Govi concurred. “I hadn’t considered the possibility before. We have a dozen other nonverbal Mataras. None of whom are as stable as Rachel, but it may be worth our while to teach them Kalquorian as well.” He checked the time and winced. “I really have to get going or my Dramok will have my head for working too late. I must check in with Rachel for just a few minutes though. Good night, everyone. And excellent work, Dr. Conyod.” He rushed towards her room.
Kivokan joined Erybet’s clan as they continued on their way to public docking. The psychiatrist oozed charm that always seemed a tad calculating to Conyod.
“I was just in your Imdiko’s neck of the woods the other day, Dramok Erybet.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Conyod said. He might not be Kivokan’s biggest fan, but they did have a lot in common. He told his clanmates, “Dr. Kivokan’s clan bought the property right next to my stables. A little getaway, I believe?”
Kivokan smiled. “The country is so relaxing. My Nobek Akrij in particular has fallen in love with the area. He goes out there every chance he gets.”
Erybet’s eyebrows raised. “I never realized High Commander Akrij had an affinity for such remote areas. Wasn’t he raised here in the capital city?”
“Since the war he’s found the peace and quiet of the plains and mountains a soothing respite.”
They reached the shuttle docks and Kivokan went the opposite direction from the group.
“Have a good night, all. Good luck with your meeting. Wonderful job with Matara Rachel, Dr.
Conyod.”
“Thank you, sir.” Just hearing her name made the Imdiko’s heart stutter a little. If he had any luck tonight, it would be that tonight’s lottery pick would be an absolutely horrible example of an Earther Matara.
* * * *
When a knock sounded at her door, Rachel had the wild hope it was Conyod. Seeing Dr.
Govi instead was a bit of a disappointment, but she smiled anyway. She liked Govi. Better him than the slick, debonair, and totally smarmy Kivokan any day.
Govi grinned back. “Hello Rachel.”
“Retig, Govi.” It was still a shock to hear the whispering croak coming from her throat.
She hoped he didn’t mind her omitting ‘doctor’ from her greeting. She hadn’t learned the Kalquorian equivalent yet.
The utterly stunning Kalquorian laughed out loud. “Your voice is the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day. Well done!”
Her face heated at the effusive praise. She motioned for him to come in and sit.
Govi entered the room but stayed just inside the doorway. It was late in the day, and Rachel didn’t doubt he’d been leaving for home when Conyod had told him she’d spoken.
She typed him a message on her handheld. A snarling Tragoom sounds better than I do.
He laughed again, the rolling thunder of his amusement filling the room. “I would argue that. I’m sure as you get more practice, your voice will clear up. Vocal chords weaken like any other body part not used regularly, so you’ll have to build it a bit at a time. Do you feel confident you’ll continue to learn Kalquorian and speak more?”
Rachel wanted to talk to Conyod. Not just say hello. Not just speak his name. She wanted to have a real conversation, one in which they could share their thoughts and feelings without her crutch of a computer. She gave Govi an emphatic nod.
“Good. Then we can start thinking along the lines of treating you on an outpatient basis.”
Rachel’s heart sped. Fear and hope warred for supremacy. She typed, How soon?
Govi considered. “That will depend on your progress and how prepared you feel you are. If you keep working at speaking, maybe as soon as within a week. More likely two, but if you’re driven to prove you’re ready…” He shrugged, letting her know the ball was in her court.
Rachel swallowed. Leaving could mean not seeing Conyod again. And she’d not been outside the psychiatric wing of the hospital since coming to Kalquor. Suddenly the prospect of being cured was more daunting than she’d anticipated.
She asked, Where will I go?
“If I’m not mistaken, you’ve indicated an interest in joining a clan?” At her nod, Govi said,
“In that case, you’ll join the other Earther Mataras in Kalquor’s lottery program. Quarters in the Earther Matara compound will be assigned to you, and they’re quite comfortable from what I’ve been told. There are communal exercise facilities, meeting places, spas run by the Tratsods who are noted for their ability to relax both mind and body, all sorts of amenities. In fact, some clans have complained we’ve made life for the unclanned Earthers so nice, the women don’t want to leave.” He chuckled.
I know it’s past time for you to go home, but could you quickly explain the lottery to me?
Govi was too nice to check his chronometer. Acting as if she didn’t impose on him at all, he said, “Of course. Clans are picked randomly to present themselves to up to five Mataras. I have no doubt you won’t lack interested suitors. You meet them for an initial appointment – I think you Earthers refer to them as ‘dates’ – and if you like a particular clan, you can meet with them as many times as you wish until you make a decision.”
It sounds great for my kind, but I’ll bet there are a lot of disappointed clans.
“That’s true. There simply aren’t enough women to go around, but that’s been the state of Kalquor for centuries now. That’s why we have the clan system.”
She’d known all that, but Rachel had been looking for confirmation of what she’d been told.
She typed, I’ve taken up enough of your time, Dr. Govi. Then she said, “Gutuk ze.”
He truly looked delighted with her. “You are most welcome, Rachel. Keep working on it.
Good night.”
“Ek dug.”
Govi grinned fit to split his stunning face. “Marvelous. I am so happy for you.”
He bowed his head to her and left. Rachel thought without a trace of envy how lucky his Matara was to have such a dashing sweetheart of an Imdiko.
It was funny how the handsome, kind Govi somehow didn’t appeal to Rachel the same way the darker, moodier Conyod
did. Maybe it was because she identified with angst better after all she’d been through. His clanmates Erybet and Sletran also had pain lurking in their demeanors, though they’d attempted to mask it with polite interest.
I wonder if I can get out of here soon enough to be considered by Conyod’s clan. But they know I’m damaged. And even if we got along, how would they feel when they see my scars?
When they learn of how stupid and pointless my stand against Earth’s authority really was?
How I got two dozen people, including the man I loved, killed?
Conyod had been understanding about all those things, but maybe he was one in a million.
Still, it was nice to think she might have the opportunity to make her case to join his clan and spend her life with him.
Rachel wondered how the men’s date was going. It was probably wrong to hope the Matara they were meeting was ugly or stupid so Conyod’s clan wouldn’t want her. But Rachel hoped that was the case anyway.
* * * *
Erybet thought that if it was left up to the atmosphere of the eatery named A Taste of Home, they’d have no problem impressing Matara Maria. Unfortunately, it seemed the only other thing his clan had gotten right was their gift to her. The Dramok had commissioned a Joshadan craftsman to fashion the necklace made of precious gemstones mined from one of Kalquor’s moons. Pretty, dark-haired Maria had gasped with delight when she’d opened the box it nestled in. It now glittered in iridescent rainbow hues around her generously perfumed neck.
That and getting into the most popular restaurant in the capital city’s marketplace had been the positives of the night. The eatery had opened only a year prior and was a runaway success with its fusion of Earther and Kalquorian cuisine. Erybet had gotten on the waiting list to eat here the moment the clan had come up on the lottery two months prior. It was geared specifically for clans with Earther Mataras, serving delicious cuisine for all tastes. Those women homesick for the foods they’d grown up with were guaranteed to find something they liked.
The restaurant was also meant for romance, with each table nestled inside half-circle partitions that promoted privacy and intimacy. Low lighting and soft music and the relaxing tinkle of a nearby fountain enhanced the cozy, conversation-inducing setting, and the quick and unobtrusive service was a plus. It had been so successful that there was talk of opening a second location on Kalquor’s next-largest city a continent away.
Erybet’s plate of chafga meat and stewed beets couldn’t have smelled more savory. He’d never had Earther food before, but the beets’ sweetness and the shrimp and chile-stuffed mushroom caps they’d started the meal with couldn’t have suited his palate more.
Unfortunately, he was starting to feel nauseous. The night had taken a turn for the worse.
Maria couldn’t be blamed, overzealous use of cologne notwithstanding. The young vivacious woman had spent a lot of time trying to engage Erybet’s clanmates in conversation.
She got next to nothing from Sletran, which was not surprising. But Conyod was almost as quiet, providing one or two-word answers to her questions.
The poor girl was trying to draw out the reticent Imdiko once again. “Of the Mataras under your care, which has been your most interesting case, Dr. Conyod?”
The thus-far unenthusiastic Conyod finally showed a flicker of his former gregarious personality. His face lighting with genuine pleasure, he said, “My best case is that of a young woman who had a huge breakthrough this evening. I confess it’s my fault we were late in meeting you, because I was enthralled with the latest step in her recovery. She’s been completely mute, afraid of speaking because she was tortured for information back on Earth.”
His excitement in answering, which had initially given Erybet a sense of relief, quickly became another negative in what had become a terrible night. Conyod continued to go on and on about Rachel, as if Maria would find the intricacies of her treatment fascinating. And he kept talking, not allowing Maria to contribute a single word to the conversation. With a sinking heart, Erybet watched Maria’s interest fade to polite attention then to boredom.
Conyod didn’t notice. It was as if there was nothing else in all the universe to talk about but Matara Rachel. Through his misery, Erybet wondered at his usually sensitive and empathetic Imdiko’s inability to see he was tiring their date.
Next to him, Sletran sat silently, slowly chewing his meal with no sign of enjoyment and evidencing no interest at all in the goings on. He’d been pleasant when spoken to, but otherwise, the Nobek might as well have not been there.
Conyod finally paused long enough to draw a breath, and Maria took the opportunity to jump in. “Your patient is very fortunate to have someone so passionately dedicated to her care.”
Trying to forestall another launch into all things Rachel, Erybet asked the lovely, round-featured Earther, “Did we mention Conyod was the psychiatric team’s top pick to join them? He was chosen over 200 other candidates.”
She smiled tightly. “Yes, I believe you did mention that. One can see why, given his devotion.”
The silence that followed was undeniably uncomfortable. Conyod, deprived of what was apparently the only subject he wanted to talk about, descended into silence once more. Erybet desperately searched his mind for something to say that would impress the Matara, something about his clan he hadn’t spoken of yet. Something that would warrant a second meeting. He came up with zilch.
Damn it, he’d carried the evening, such as it was, on his own. He tried to catch his clanmates’ eyes, to plead silently for help. But Sletran stared into space, presumably seeing nothing but past horrors. Conyod picked miserably at his half-eaten dessert of glazed fitu fruit.
A young man dressed in a loose-fitting cook’s tunic stepped in their eating area, his expression warmly polite. The handsome youth looked questioningly at Erybet, who nodded his permission to address them. Erybet was relieved to have the distraction.
The cook smiled at the group. “Good evening, all. I’m Imdiko Vax, owner of this establishment. May I interrupt you for just a moment to ask how the food was?”
Maria was quick to enthuse. She’d not left a crumb on any of her dishes. “It was all amazing, Imdiko. I really wanted the filet mignon, but I’m so glad your waiter steered me towards the braised ronka. It literally melted in my mouth.”
Vax was unabashedly delighted with the praise. “Excellent! Did you have the garlic mashed potatoes with it? They really do match up wonderfully.”
She nodded, her dark curls springing about her face with her adamant pleasure. “I did. And this—” she indicated the empty stemmed bowl that had recently contained her dessert “—the tiramisu was pure heaven. Your Matara is so lucky to have a man who can cook like you.”
It took all Erybet’s self control to keep disappointment from flooding his expression. Maria was obvious as she fished for Vax’s clan status.
The Imdiko darted a quick glance at him and flushed with embarrassment. The voltage of his smile lowered. “I’ll be sure to tell her. It doesn’t hurt to remind her to appreciate me once in awhile.”
The obligatory laughter from all was forced. Vax wasted no time bowing and leaving, but not before sympathy crossed his gentle features.
Well, at least one Imdiko in the building was aware of the obvious. Erybet took no comfort from it, however. The date was a lost cause and all he wanted to do now was get it over with.
He grabbed his large glass of kloq and drained it in one go. He hoped they had plenty more at home to help him forget the humiliation of this night. And not just tonight. There was a lot he’d like to forget.
* * * *
Erybet’s shuttle landed in its assigned place between his clanmates’ personal vehicles. He turned it off, winking out Conyod’s view of the exterior vid, which showed the docking bay in the complex where they lived. Like a quarter of the city’s inhabitants, they lived within the cliffs overlooking the pink-sand beach at the western edge of Kalquor’s largest ocean. Spacious
living quarters and multiple levels had been cut inside the natural formations. The Imperial Clan and their immediate families also lived in one of the cliffs. The Royal House was about half a mile away from where Erybet’s group made their home, along with around 300 other clans.
The interior of the cliff dwelling showed little evidence of the natural formation it was carved from. The floor of the bay was polished smooth as glass, and light emitted from the wall and ceiling panels that covered the stone.
As soon as they disembarked, Sletran muttered something about taking a walk on the beach.
He headed towards the transport tube that accessed all levels and sections of the cliff without waiting for their leave. Conyod started to say something, but one look at Erybet’s face shut him up. The Dramok’s fine-drawn features were almost feral with his brow crushing down over his eyes and mouth curled in a near snarl. Erybet was boiling mad.
His shoulders hunched almost defensively, Conyod followed Erybet to another transport.
Except for his leader’s snapped orders to the transport controls, neither said anything.
The second they got into their quarters’ greeting room, Erybet tossed the box containing the necklace they’d presented Matara Maria to a nearby table. That she’d been reluctant to return it had been obvious, but she’d told them, “I’m sorry but I don’t think your clan is for me. And as much as I love this necklace, I wouldn’t feel right accepting it.”
She’d been a very nice woman, more than acceptable for a potential Matara. Conyod felt a wash of guilt that he’d disappointed Erybet by not trying harder. But Maria was not Rachel. Not by far, and he just couldn’t pretend interest in the woman, not even to make his Dramok happy.
Erybet stalked across the room to the bar, wasting no time in pouring himself a glass of bohut, a much more potent drink than the kloq he’d had at the restaurant. Conyod eyed the half dozen bottles of alcohol at the bar with desire, but he wasn’t going to go anywhere near while his furious Dramok stood there.
He’s never truly hurt me. His discipline and punishments have always been fair, the Imdiko told himself. But Erybet was a near stranger to him now, and who knew what he was capable of in such a rage? Conyod decided it was best not to chance finding out.
Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06] Page 4