Obligations

by Cheryce Clayton

  “I… Someone has to keep him alive,” Greg finished.

  “Yeah, I know.” Sam looked back down at the table and to the part his hands were twisting.

  “Hey, don’t get married without us man,” Greg offered with an uncomfortable laugh. He waited several seconds for response before giving up and turning to go.

  “Hey, man, keep it safe,” Sam said as the part snapped in his hands.

  “Yeah,” Greg whispered from the doorway.

  Denise stood on the other side of the open door and glared at Greg as he shrugged to her and left. She walked into the room, pulled Sam’s chair away from the table, and sat on his lap. They were silent for a long time.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - Space – 2012

  Their passage on board the Sansheren transport was nearly uneventful. Tim chose to bunk among the five hundred or so humans who signed on, most only because of his name. Greg accepted the private berth that was offered them, and spent his time polishing his language skills among the Sansheren crew, and visiting Tim to see if the dark humor had left him yet. Days passed, and with each new transit jump the mercenaries grew more skittish, and more spooked. A consensus was building, a group opinion that Tim planned a suicide attack against Tadesde.

  “His banner shrinks. I have entertained four this very morning who requested a new leader,” Tadalde said in English as she passed a plate of meats to Greg.

  “I know. His hatred for Tadesde’s overwhelming,” Greg said, never looking up from the food before him.

  “I would offer an honorable escape to your friend,” Tadalde echoed Greg’s serious attitude.

  “I don’t know that he’ll take it. He wants her head on a platter,” Greg returned, this time looking at the glass of sour fruit juice that passed for Sansheren wine.

  “Does my honor dictate that I be forced to sacrifice our friendship to protect his honor from himself?” Tadalde smiled sadly at Greg when he looked up.

  “Tell me your thought, my friend,” Greg said with no inflection.

  “I would offer your services to the Flagship of the House Sheresuan. Humans are in vogue now it seems, and they lead the fashion; their Twelve will appreciate the gesture,” Tadalde said deliberately, not wanting to give offense.

  “I doubt Tim would agree to play ornamental bodyguard to a Sansheren.” Greg gave a disgusted laugh at that thought.

  “House Sheresuan will lead the battle and will be first to ground. Only those onboard her Flagship will have the wonderful opportunity to see Tadesde’s demise. I will be there. Think about it, my friend.” Tadalde ended her words by passing a new plate to Greg. “My wives did not come; have you anyone to share your bed this night, handsome Gregory?” Tadalde leaned toward her startled human guest and smiled.

  “If you offer out of boredom, surely there are those among your people who would be honored to join you this evening,” Greg temporized.

  “I have found that sleeping with one’s underlings can cause troubles among the staff. I will not take offense if you decline without stating a reason.” She laughed at his discomfort.

  “I do not think I would be capable of what you ask. I’m sorry. But tell me please, why did you offer?” Greg asked with interest, not noticing that this time it was he who leaned closer.

  “I admit to wishing to indulge in curiosity. The enthusiasm of your species is often spoken of in the dark.” Tadalde reached forward and stroked his bare arm.

  “I… I will have to think about it. How many wives do you boast?” Greg asked in Sansheren as he became aware of her proximity and pulled back, trying to cover the movement by reaching for a plate close to him and offering it to her.

  “Your grasp of the court tongue improves, my friend. I have been honored by three who have born me children.” Tadalde laughed as she accepted the change of subject with the plate.

  “I thought you bore your own children?” Greg asked, as much to keep the conversation neutral as he did from confusion.

  “It is difficult to explain to another species, it seems. My wives bore children of their flesh for me. I am their father and my claim to them is stronger than that of their mothers. When I finally choose to bear children, I will do so for another.”

  Greg shook his head to show his confusion.

  “The two highest honors one can give another are to bear her children or to die for her, and bear her children.” Tadalde toyed with a piece of meat as she tried to marshal her thoughts.

  “What keeps someone you do not like from claiming you’re the father?” Greg asked, trying to give form to the many questions that he was thinking.

  “No one can force another to be a father, it is a title you embrace with marriage.” Tadalde seemed amused at the question, so Greg tried again.

  “What is the Sansheren word for bastard, to be born to an unwed mother?” He knew his host’s grasp of English at least matched his grasp of Sansheren, but Tadalde shook her head at the word and frowned at its definition.

  “There is no word for what you describe. To be born without a father one would emerge from a permanently dead mother, and I have taught you several words for that insult. This is a distasteful subject, I thought we were discussing marriage.” Tadalde again leaned forward in an intimate manner as she finished speaking.

  “We were, but the subjects of children and marriage seem to be linked.” Greg found himself once more trying to maintain a distance from his host and employer.

  “Of course they are. The marriage is not finalized until the children are conceived.” Tadalde shifted away without losing her focus on Greg’s face.

  “I thought you had to die to conceive?” Greg moved to lean against the couch that was behind him; he realized his error as Tadalde shifted and laid her head on his now open lap.

  “It is the act of trust, in allowing your loved one to kill you that consummates the marriage. The resuscitation team waits outside to revive you.” Tadalde reached out and ran a claw tip down the side of the uncomfortable man's neck.

  “What about murders?” Greg asked.

  “They rarely occur. To kill someone is to inherit all their family, their children, their honor debts, everything. I have not heard of that happening within my lifetime.” She continued to stroke his neck, pausing when he swallowed and his adam’s apple bobbed.

  “So, how do you know the other person wants to have kids, and not just another jump in the sack?” Greg watched warily as Tadalde curled up even closer to him.

  “The marriage ceremony is brief, but unmistakable. Five words, ‘I would bear your children’.”

  Tadalde’s voice was growing softer, but Greg didn’t quite dare to move and look to confirm his hopes. “What about divorce?” he asked, trying to keep the silence from building.

  “I’ve heard humans say ‘till death do we part,’ this speaks to Sansheren custom as well, but that ties into your question about murder does it not? We could speak of this another time - right now I only ask that you remain until I am asleep. Are you capable of this small favor, old friend?” Her voice was sleep muffled, and Greg didn’t bother to respond as he waited for her breathing to deepen.

  #

  “It’s the only real shot you’ll have at Tadesde man.” Greg sat on Tim’s bunk and looked down at his friend.

  “Playing honor guard to some furry-assed bitch ain’t my idea of a real shot, you dig?” Tim sat up and swung his legs to the edge of the bunk, forcing Greg to stand.

  “You say honor as if it is an insult. This is the only shot we got man. I’m taking it. I don’t care what you do,” he lied.

  “Fine, I’ll play the part. Hey, let’s grab something to eat.” Tim stood with Greg.

  “Kinda ate with Tadalde. That’s how I got us this gig.” Greg turned his face away.

  “Kinda ate with? Man, you didn’t have to whore yourself.” Tim yanked him back by his jacket.

  “I didn’t,” Greg growled and jerked free.

  “Sure, what'd you do? Discuss battle plans?” Tim sn
orted with disgust as he moved to cross the empty room.

  The other mercenaries assigned to the room were already at the cafeteria, Greg assumed. “No,” his terse response. “We discussed marriage customs. Whatever you do, never offer to have a baby for one of them,” Greg tried to joke.

  “Why not?” Tim stopped moving and held very still.

  “That’s their marriage ceremony, ‘I would bear your children.’ That’s it. You accept and it’s ‘until death do us part’.” Greg stared at Tim in confusion over his friend’s look of panic.

  “I need a drink; you have a bottle in your room?” Tim turned away from the door that led to the cafeteria and headed for the room’s other exit.

  “Yeah, why?” Greg asked to Tim's departing back. He followed him to his own quarters only to have the door slammed and locked in his face.

  #

  “Your beauty could stand to be enhanced. I fear you will do us both a dishonor with your appearance,” Tadalde said in English when she looked up from her desk to see the unshaven and unwashed Tim leaning on Greg’s arm. She now pointed to her own washroom with a frown.

  “I tried,” was Greg’s answer to the look she gave him.

  “My friend, perhaps you would protect both of our honors if you would enhance your beauty before we dock with the Flagship of the House Sheresuan.” Tadalde tried to catch Tim’s eye.

  “I ain’t your friend,” he mumbled before shaking off Greg’s hand and stumbling toward the indicated room.

  “I fear for my standing with the Great House Sheresuan. While they cannot refuse your presence, his behavior may leave them less than appreciative.” Tadalde pushed her chair clear from the desk and pointed to an empty chair for Greg.

  “He’ll be professional, and eventually sober up. I explained this was his only chance to get Tadesde.” Greg accepted the chair with a sigh that expressed his concern for his suicidal friend.

  “I remember the death of his spouse, but it seems his hatred has grown worse, beyond his control. Now it eats him from within like an unwanted child. What has happened to fuel it?” Tadalde asked while offering Greg a glass of wine.

  “He had another lover. She was on Bystocc,” Greg said and then took a small sip.

  “Many have lost far worse at her hand. But, I understand better, I think. I will warn the Lady of Sheresuan as to his recent grief.” Tadalde also sipped her drink.

  “Why can’t they refuse?” Greg asked after the silence built.

  “One cannot refuse a bodyguard. But then, one does not have to feed or clothe an unacceptable guard. There have been many incidents recorded where a guard’s only food came from insisting on tasting for poison, and where an unappreciated guard slept in the hallway in front of her chosen master’s door.” Tadalde’s lesson was cut short by muffled shouts from Tim.

  “Where’s the fucking razor?” he asked, slamming the door open.

  “I do not own one. Your down is attractive, why not wear it?” Tadalde offered him a human looking smile.

  “Fine. You ready, man?” Tim left the washroom toweling his wet hair, his wrinkled clothing spotted with moisture.

  “I have outfits for both of you,” Tadalde lied as she stood and moved to her own vanity. She removed two pairs of pants that belonged to one of her wives. The spouse was a spacer, tall by Sansheren standards. The loose pants looked like they might fit the men.

  “Like hell, man. I have battle armor in our quarters. We’ll go change and meet you at the aft airlock.” Tim cast one last disgusted look at the billowy silk pants and left the room.

  Greg shrugged, glad of Tim’s reaction, before leaving himself.

  When they reached the airlock a short time later, Tim wore solid black. Gone were his slept-in clothes, replaced by first a layer of soft cotton and then by skin tight, flexible black armor. All but his head was protected, and he carried his helmet in hand. Greg wore the same black armor, but one entire leg piece had been replaced with dark blue material. His helmet was also a dark blue. Three other humans, two men and one woman, had suited up and joined them uninvited. Tim was now clean-shaven.

  “I don’t care how important this bitch is, I won’t bow,” Tim whispered to Greg as Tadalde approached and the airlock started hissing.

  “It would be unforgivable to offer a respect you did not feel. Stand tall, my friend,” Tadalde said in English as the hatch opened.

  The flagship airlock was open and they moved into it without speaking. When the final sequence was complete, they exited into a large cargo bay that had been converted into barracks for the Sansheren fighters. Many of those present, Greg noticed, bent their knee to Tadalde as she walked past, flanked by her human mercenaries.

  “I’m telling you, I ain’t gonna bow,” Tim said once more to bolster his own determination. They left the cargo bay and moved down the corridor, a short passage that opened into a slightly smaller chamber.

  Greg glanced around the room as Tadalde stepped forward and bowed to an old Sansheren woman.

  “I am honored by your gift.”

  Morgan’s voice snapped Tim’s head up and Greg stared at the person standing behind the Sansheren he assumed to be the head of House Sheresuan. Both he and Tim stepped forward to see her better. She had not been taking the drugs the doctor told them about, Greg thought as he noticed her bare chest. Her small breasts were firm and no longer swollen and tender looking. Something had etched new lines around her eyes, and she no longer looked so young.

  Tim took another step forward, bumping several Sansheren retainers out of his way. One hand clenched his helmet, and the other groped about his belt and side, seeking something to cling to, stopping when it found his holstered weapon.

  “My Lady!” a bumped retainer said in fear as she watched the human grab a weapon.

  Isaac entered the room from the other side and watched as Morgan looked up and froze at the sight of the silent Tim.

  Greg, too, felt frozen, unable to move as his lips formed her name.

  “They are family,” Isaac called out, stopping the retainers who were drawing weapons against what they thought was a threat to Morgan.

  “Come on,” Morgan said, breaking eye contact with Tim to include the entire party, and turned to leave the room.

  “My wife will find you lodgings,” Morgan said at the end of the corridor she had fled into.

  Tadalde and the humans stood as Morgan closed her door on them. Iedonea came out a moment later and directed them to a large stateroom they were all to share.

  “We will make Bystocc orbit before morning. Rest,” Iedonea told them before rushing out, Greg assumed to discover what had disturbed Morgan.

  #

  She found the younger leader crying in her quarters.

  “Speak, my niece. I cannot read your face the way you have buried it in the pillow so.” Iedonea pulled against the pillow as she spoke.

  “He is the family I went searching for. I thought he was safe on Wergol,” Morgan said, not giving voice to her personal certainty of defeat.

  “He does you great honor in coming to you. Do not shame him by sending him away.” Iedonea gave up on removing the pillow and began to caress her shoulders.

  “I will not, I cannot. I am too selfish to send him away. I want to be near him so bad.” Morgan was aware of how incoherent she sounded. The certainty she felt about her up-and-coming defeat robbed her of any veneer of independence. Right now, she felt like a child and she wanted Tim close. Even if it was in another room on the ship, and even if it meant he would die with her, she wanted him with her. She never noticed when Iedonea left.

  #

  “You do us a great honor in your presence,” Iedonea said in Sansheren, her eyes on Tim as Greg translated.

  “I came for Tadesde,” Tim answered, and even the Sansheren could hear the pain in his voice.

  “As did our beloved, Morgan. She, like you, is focused on the destruction of Tadesde and little else. I fear your unexpected appearance distracted her from the task
at hand.” Iedonea waved her hand around the command center of the flagship. She had gone from Morgan’s quarters to offer a tour of the ship to Tim, Greg, and Tadalde.

  “What are your battle plans? How many ships does Tadesde have in orbit? How many bodies can you put on the surface at once?” Tim ripped off a string of questions without waiting for Greg’s translation. He moved toward the system display unit and began tracing ships’ locations on the holographic globe. Morgan’s fleet occupied one small edge of the display and was surrounded by a haze that represented the smaller fighter crafts.

  “We detect seven and ten ships to orbit. Tadesde alone uses magnetic mines - for her safety – she is fool,” the captain of the flagship stepped up next to Tim and answered in broken but understandable English.

  “Or she lays a clever trap,” Morgan challenged as she walked into the room.

  “Good point. How many troops you plan on beaching?” Tim never looked up from the display as Morgan moved to stand opposite him across the large transparent sphere.

  “I brought three thousand Gulardee soldiers-“Morgan said, but Tim’s snort silenced her.

  “We had over eighty thousand men on the ground at one time, what good is three thousand going to do?” He didn’t try to disguise his disgust.

  “Our intelligence reports never placed more than ten thousand Tadesde retainers on the ground to your eighty thousand, my friend. The Gulardee soldier is not to be underestimated. And there is a difference between routing a guerilla army and all out orbital war. The planet belongs to whoever controls the gravity well.” Tadalde stepped closer and placed a hand on Tim’s arm by way of caution.

  “In leaving a substantial guard behind us to defend the House Sheresuan, my niece has accomplished two separate goals. First she guarantees that Tadesde cannot seize her other House, a wise precaution when one considers that over half of Tadesde’s force is still unaccounted for. Second and far more important I think, she has shamed the other Great Houses into contributing openly to this glorious effort.” Iedonea said with a nod to Tadalde and then stopped speaking when she realized Tim was still waiting for the translation of her first words.