Of the five species represented on the United Council, the Bukari were the de facto leaders. Theirs tended to be the voice of reason, more so than the Grih, the Tecran, the Garmma or the Fitali. But he didnʼt think the Tecran would ever have shown Rose to a Bukarian, not if they wanted to hide what they were doing, so he wondered how sheʼd come by the fragrance.
She had been alternating between staring at his hands, his hair, and a spot on the floor by his feet since they left Harmon half an hour ago, and she slowly raised her head at his statement.
“Was I?” She frowned, but there was also a pretty blush on her cheeks. “Oh. Perhaps I was.”
Was she lying? He couldnʼt be sure. There was something there, but he just didnʼt know enough to guess.
“What were you saying?”
She slid down a little in her chair, crossed her arms over her stomach, and held his gaze. He felt the frisson generated by her challenge along his arms, down his spine, and everything in him tightened.
“I was talking the situation over.” She kept eye contact, and he wondered, as his senses stirred and his blood pumped faster, if she was aware of what she was doing.
“Why?” His voice was rough.
She opened her mouth, closed it. Paused. “Does it matter? I wasnʼt disturbing anyone, so it should be no oneʼs business but my own.”
Her Grih almost couldnʼt cope with that sentence, but she managed it, her voice so beautifully fluid and smooth, and then she shot him a smile at the end, pleased with herself for managing the vocabulary. The challenge in her stare dissipated and he couldnʼt help but smile back, his body relaxing again.
“Itʼs cultural? To talk to yourself?”
She gave a laugh. “If youʼre kept in what amounts to solitary confinement, yes. Very culturally acceptable to become a madwoman who talks to herself.”
She called herself a madwoman, but it was clear she was sane, incredibly intelligent, and very resilient. And, he conceded, it was culturally acceptable for his own people to talk to themselves when they had no companionship for days on end, too.
It was obviously a habit sheʼd fallen into.
“I donʼt think youʼre mad.”
She grimaced. “It would have been better to have been mad, sometimes.” She looked away and shrugged again.
He didnʼt know how to comfort her, and decided to distract her instead.
There was something that had interested him almost since this strange situation started. Something she might be able to answer. “What was the life-form that was killed in the Class 5ʼs launch bay?”
“The lion?” Her gaze met his again. “You canʼt believe how magnificent it was.”
“Why did they kill it?”
Anger flared in her eyes, and she sat straighter, her movements choppy. “Because it was frightening the Tecran who were trying to load it into the explorer craft, and slowing them down, apparently.”
“You are upset about it.”
She gave a tight nod. “I feel protective of all the animals that were taken with me. They didnʼt even have the benefit of working out what was going on. One moment they were free, then next, stuck in that terrible place. I lived with them every day for three months.”
“I am sure Lieutenant Kila would welcome your input into their care when my team has captured them all.”
“She wonʼt hurt them?”
“I understand you are wary of her after her reactions to you in the med-chamber, but that was due to her excitement at finding a true advanced sentient who is an orange. Most exploration officers go their whole careers without ever even finding a sentient orange. We havenʼt encountered an advanced sentient orange in five hundred years.”
“Fair enough.” She slumped in her seat again, sliding her feet forward until they almost touched his.
He noticed her legs were long, and perfectly defined in the clothes she was wearing. He cleared his throat.
“What was your job? Back on your planet.”
She fiddled with the crystal around her neck. “I was an academic, in the field of linguistics.”
“So thatʼs why you were so quick to pick up Grihan.”
She nodded. “I have an affinity for languages.”
It eased something in him to have a solid reason for her ability with their language. It was the most surprising thing about her, other than the way sheʼd got here.
The pilot sent the signal for arrival, a single, low tone, and they strapped in again.
When her harness was secure, she leaned forward, stretching across the space between them, and took his hands in hers. Her fingers were icy cold, and he curled his own fingers around hers to warm them.
They felt small and delicate.
“Captain Jallan, I just want to say . . .” She looked from his face down to their clasped hands. “Thank you. For rescuing me from the gryak, for your kindness since then. I havenʼt had a lot of reason to hope over the last three months, but today, youʼve given that back to me.”
He could feel her hands trembling under his, and he realized she was frightened, that this was yet another new situation for her. Her face was calm though, even serene, and that strange mix of lust, respect and admiration heʼd had when heʼd first seen her face down the gryak, and then jump from the cave to the roof of her craft, rose up in him again.
Had never really retreated, if he was being honest.
He squeezed her hands, and then forced himself to release her. “Iʼm glad we could help you.” He tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact and impersonal.
The ship slid through the gel wall of the launch bay and landed smoothly, and as the engines settled, she stayed seated and watched as he unclipped himself.
“What now?”
“Now you go to the large, better-equipped med-chamber on board, with Doctor Havak.”
She sighed and pushed down on her harness button, the sound of her straps unclipping loud in the cabin. “And afterward?”
The doors opened silently, and Dav twisted in his seat, looked out at the four members of his crew waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp. “I donʼt know, Rose. I just donʼt know.”
Of the greeting party of four, two were guards to accompany herself and the captain to the med-chamber, a man and a woman, both with their helmets retracted, so she could see their faces.
Another, a broad-shouldered man with hair the color of coal dust tipped with ash, drew Jallan aside and spoke to him in a low voice. She guessed he was an officer.
The last member of the group was a woman, but she wasnʼt Grihan. She was thinner in build, closer to Rose in height, with eyes that were all dark brown iris, with no white around it. Four long, slender fingers were on each delicate hand. Her face was attractive, her features delicate in her long, tapered face, and her skin was almost gold in color. Her hair was short and a dark copper.
She walked beside Rose, letting Jallan and his officer go ahead of them, the guards behind.
She bent closer and sniffed.
Rose fought back panic. “Is something wrong?”
The womanʼs eyes snapped up to hers. “No. I apologize for alarming you. Itʼs just, I can smell yuiar on you, and Iʼm trying to think how you could smell of the most rare scent from my home planet.”
Rose lifted her hand, sniffed. “I canʼt smell anything, but Iʼm probably used to it now. I was given some liquid soap to use, which smelled very nice. Perhaps it was yuiar? It came from the Tecran supplies.”
“They bathed you in yuiar?” The womanʼs mouth fell open, and Rose saw a fine line of sharp-looking teeth.
She swallowed. “They didnʼt bathe me at all. It was thrown into a bag for me when I left the Tecran ship.”
The woman made a strange humming sound, and ahead of them, Jallan and his officer winced.
“Sorry!” She threw up her hands, looked sideways at Rose. “That didnʼt affect you?”
Rose shook her head. She held out her hand. “Iʼm Rose, by the way.”
The woman looked at her h
and as if it were a strange apparition, and Rose blushed.
“Sorry. Itʼs the customary greeting where Iʼm from.” She joined her extended hand with her other, placing them palms together in a Grihan greeting.
“No. I would like to learn your greeting. It is why Iʼm here, after all. I am Filavantri Dimitara, the United Council liaison on this ship.”
Rose extended her hand again, and when Filavantri did the same, she grasped it, shook it once. “Very pleased to meet you.”
They had slowed to a stop for their greeting, and when Rose looked up, she saw Jallan was staring at her. When she looked over her shoulder, the guards were, too.
“It is an interesting greeting. Is there a cultural reason for it?” Filavantri asked.
“I believe it originated in the days when swords were commonly worn. As most people have a stronger right hand than left hand, shaking with your right hand showed you were a friend and not about to draw your sword and attack.”
“Fascinating.” Filavantri smiled, and Rose tried not to wince at the sight of her teeth again.
A door up ahead of them opened, and a man stepped out. “I wondered what was taking so long. Why are you standing around out here?” He turned and stepped back into the room.
Rose went still and clenched her fists. She guessed that was Dr. Havak, and her time was up.
“Rose.” Jallan gestured for her to move forward and for a moment she considered resisting. She didnʼt want to go, but sheʼd had her one allocated break-down for the day.
She suppressed a smile at the thought.
She drew in a deep breath of over-processed air and followed the doctor into the med-chamber.
“This is Rose,” Jallan said to Havak. “Kila sent you the results of her scan?”
Havak nodded. “Everything seems in order. I will just need to take some blood, do a physical exam.”
Rose drew back, folding her arms against her body protectively. “No.”
Her voice was overloud in the silver and white room theyʼd all stepped into, and she caught the quick movement of the guards readying their weapons.
She turned to them, looked them straight in the eye. Sheʼd been so shocked when the Tecran had first taken her, sheʼd cowered and hidden, and her guards had started off treating her as a thing, not a person, but the cowering woman sheʼs been had disappeared the moment sheʼd pulled Sazo out of his own little prison.
“Youʼre prepared to shoot me for not wanting a stranger to examine my body? Then go ahead.” She threw her arms out to her sides and glared at them.
They had not expected that. Probably more drama than they were used to. She would never have called herself a drama queen, but the thought of curious, impersonal hands on her again . . . she almost retched, and as she breathed in through her nose to calm herself, she didnʼt miss their quick glance at Jallan.
He stepped between her and them. “Easy. Rose, you knew you would be examined by Dr. Havak. Itʼs to learn about you so we can provide you with food that wonʼt harm you, do a more thorough check on what the Tecran did to you.”
“Examine is one thing. Someone I donʼt know touching me is another.”
Dr. Havak stepped forward. “I wonʼt touch you if that makes you uncomfortable, Rose. Iʼll be using this.” He lifted up a slim white cylinder. “And I donʼt think I need to examine my patient under armed guard, do I, Captain?”
Jallan frowned. “Havak——”
“I understand the risks, and Iʼm prepared to take them. Rose does not strike me as dangerous. You can stay, but the guards should go, and Officer Lothric surely has no need to be here?”
Jallan looked over at his officer, who Rose realized had been standing near the door, and gave a jerk of his head. Rose noticed Lothricʼs expression turned hot with anger before he gave a grudging nod and walked out.
With a hand signal from Jallan, the guards left, too, and Havak turned to Filavantri.
“Officer Dimitara, I can understand you would wish to be here, but I will only allow it if Rose is comfortable.”
Rose drew in another deep breath, this time to combat tears from his kindness. “Thank you for giving me the choice, Dr. Havak. I donʼt mind if Filavantri stays. Iʼd prefer it.”
He motioned to the examining table, and Rose had to jump a little to reach it. Fortunately, the atmosphere must be just slightly less than Earthʼs because she managed it easily. It wasnʼt as light as it had been on Harmon, but it gave her the sense of having a tiny edge.
Havak took her blood, making an interested sound as it flowed into the vial heʼd attached to the strange extraction device heʼd clipped to her arm.
He took it over to a workstation and Jallan and Filavantri followed him, obviously as interested in the tests he was about to do as he was.
A door opened to her left, not from the passageway but from an interconnecting room, and a woman strode in with a child in her arms.
He started to cry almost immediately, and she looked down at him in exasperation. “Gyp, give me two minutes. Please.” She flicked a glance at Rose, and Rose smiled at her.
She frowned. “What are you in here for? Anything contagious?”
Rose shook her head. “General tests,” she said over the crying. She held out her arms, and with a nod of gratitude, the woman handed over the child and approached Havak.
Rose had missed holding babies.
Her sister had just had a little girl two months before Rose had been snatched, and while this little boy was obviously older than her niece by about six months, Rose enjoyed the feel of him in her arms. He was strong and big. “Youʼre much lighter than you look, kid,” she told him.
Her voice seemed to have an effect on him, because he stopped crying immediately and frowned up at her. She grinned back.
“I donʼt know what they feed you Grih, but you look like youʼll be growing up as big and tall as everyone else around here.”
He made a sound, a sort of cooing, and she smiled again. “Okay, how about a song? Iʼm pretty sure you donʼt know this one.” She switched to English and launched into Row, Row, Row, Your Boat, rocking him a little as she sang.
His gaze seemed absolutely riveted to her face, his pointy little ears totally adorable, and she cuddled him closer. “Guess some things cross all boundaries, huh?”
“Rose.” There was a strange tone to Jallanʼs voice, and Rose raised her head, saw everyone standing in a semi-circle around her, the woman who had handed her the baby looking white-faced.
“You want him back?” Rose asked, half-lifting him toward her, and she gave a sharp nod, took him carefully.
As soon as he left Roseʼs arms he started crying again.
No one spoke for a beat.
“Did I do something wrong?” Rose asked eventually.
“No.” Havak cleared his throat. “This is my associate, Dr. Revil, and her son, Gyp. She didnʼt realize you were the orange Captain Jallan brought back, because of your physical similarities to us, and it was a small shock to her to realize she had handed her baby to an unknown sentient life-form.”
Put like that . . . Rose gave a nod. “Sorry if I caused you any worry.”
Dr. Revil nuzzled Gypʼs head. “My apologies for my reaction. Although, when you sang to him, I knew I had nothing to fear. You honor him with such a blessing.”
“Well, blessing is stretching it. But I think he enjoyed it.”
Havak narrowed his eyes. “If you werenʼt blessing him, what were you doing?”
“Just having fun. Soothing him.” Rose tilted her head, taking in their blank expressions.
“Your people sing for fun?” Jallan looked from her to Filavantri.
“So they are like the Bukari in that way,” Filavantri said, with a half-smile. “Only her songs seem to bring pleasure to your ear, whereas ours . . .”
Jallan actually shuddered. “How many music-makers like you are there on your planet? I thought you said you were a linguist.”
She stiffened at the accusing note in his
voice. “Everyone on my planet is capable of singing, except those who have a throat condition or have hurt themselves.”
“Everyone?” Revil breathed.
“Well, there are varying levels of proficiency, obviously.”
“And where are you ranked on those levels?” Jallanʼs eyes were hot as they focused on her.
“There are worse than me, a lot worse,” Rose shrugged. “But there are a lot of people better than me by far. The best of them make a living from singing, because we enjoy listening to music a lot.”
“You do not sing professionally?” Havak asked.
Rose shook her head. “I sing in the university . . .” She frowned, realized she didnʼt know the Grih word for choir. Perhaps they didnʼt have one. “I sing with a group of people who work with me at the university for fun, and I sing in the shower, or along to songs over the . . . comms . . . in my . . . personal movement vehicle. Thatʼs the extent of it.” Sheʼd thought her Grih was better than this, but how very interesting, linguistically speaking, if they simply didnʼt have words for choir and radio. “Do you think I have a shot at a professional singing gig with the Grih?” It was a joke and she expected everyone to laugh.
They didnʼt.
Jallan cleared his throat. “Rose, the song you just sang ʽfor funʼ to Dr. Revilʼs child is the most beautiful music any of us has ever heard.”
11
“Whereʼs the orange?” Farso Lothric came to attention as Dav stepped onto the command center deck.
Dav studied him. His gut reaction was to slap Lothric down. There was an edge to his question, a slight sneer on his face, and Dav couldnʼt think of one good reason for it to be there.
His scrutiny made Lothric blink, and then look away, but there was still a surliness to his mouth, and Dav glanced down, found his hands in fists, all the better to adjust Lothricʼs attitude.
He forced himself to take a deep breath and realized Filavantri Dimitara, who had accompanied him from the med-chamber, was just as affected. She seemed to vibrate where she stood by his side.
“We do not to use the term ʽorangeʼ when referring to unknown sentient life-forms.” Her voice rose into the range so difficult for Grih ears to bear, and noticing his wince, she lowered her voice to a furious whisper. “And certainly not in that tone.”
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