Moro's Price

by M. Crane Hana

  All the breath came out of Moro’s lungs in one surprised whoosh, and his arms clenched on Val. “Impossible!”

  “So the Terran League would like to think,” said Hegen. “I hate to parrot that fool Moore, but do any humans know what a Sonta really looks like? The few times they’ve come into League space, they are always cloaked. I’d love to know how Professor Trevannis managed to get her into the League! I can tell you this: Merrick neither confirmed nor denied Anya was Sonta. And your mother was pregnant for two full years.”

  “I know what they look like,” muttered Alys. “It’s how I knew what Moro was last night. When Val was just a baby, Lia sent me off on a diplomatic mission to visit the Tena Sonta, one of the worldship tribes. Lia said I might be the only Camalian the Sonta would accept. I’ll keep most of their secrets, since they trusted me with them. I can say they’re a group of related races in one species. Some Sonta might look like monsters to us, but others can pass as well as Moro’s mother in human company.”

  “They didn’t care about me. They never came for me, because I’m part human?” snarled Moro, burying his lower face against Val’s shoulder. He was breathing Val’s scent to calm himself, Val realized.

  “What tribe was Moro’s mother?” Val asked Hegen.

  “She never said.”

  “Tena herself came to warn us last night,” said Alys. “Given that Ksala Aksenna is en route to Cedar to reclaim some ‘stolen property,’ I’d say it’s possible Anya was of Aksenna’s tribe. And Moro is the property.”

  Val swallowed. Even his desultory history studies had strong things to say about that brutal Sonta tribe. “She can’t have him,” Val growled.

  Alys shook her head. “We may not have the right to keep him. Valier, think. If Moro’s father loved Anya enough to return to her tribe, he’d have had to fight off many challengers to claim her. In less than three years, he would have gone through many of the ordeals Moro went through. Though Moro was forced, his father wasn’t. The Aksenna Sonta insist upon informed consent and strict rules of conduct. Anya would have been a prize not easily let slip by any Sonta man or woman. The Sonta would have delighted in stress testing a human brave enough to walk into their arms. Doesn’t it tell you something if Merrick not only survived but apparently thrived? The Sonta are matriarchal. Fertile daughters usually stay with their mothers’ ships; fertile sons marry out into other tribes. According to Sonta law as I understand it, Merrick Dalgleish became the son-by-ordeal of the Vessel of Aksenna herself, the queen of the tribe. And he walked away with Anya. That wasn’t coercion on anyone’s part.”

  “We’re missing someone,” said Val. “Who is the other star-eater? The one who told Aksenna where to find Moro? They don’t normally do helpful, neighborly visits to each other, do they?”

  “According to Tena, it was Aiyon,” said Alys. “And no, they don’t. Even as Vessels, they’re allergic to each other’s presence. Tena thinks Aiyon wants to start a war between Sonta and humans.”

  Val nodded, trying to remember more of Alys’s long-ago conversations with his mother and every scrap of Sonta lore. He remembered too the odd amethyst flash that had alerted Cama to a frightening presence on a skyscraper roof. “How did this Aiyon know where Moro was if he hadn’t been watching already? Who rigged the catwalk and left those float-cycles on Vaclav 18?” He shifted in Moro’s embrace to glare at Hegen. “The gray-cloaked man who paid you to look after Moro—did you ever see his face? Did his eyes ever glow purple?”

  “No. Maybe. I always thought it was feedback through holo circuits in his veil.”

  Alys groaned. Val caught Cama’s sharp fear. Of the Ksaloni known to Camalians, Tena and Danil were allies, Aksenna unknown and feared. Until now Aiyon had appeared to shun all contact with humanity, even Camalians.

  “If it was Aiyon behind Hegen’s mission and Moro’s captivity, he might have been keeping track of Sardis. It’s well-known Sardis hunts for Sonta technology,” said Alys.

  Moro was silent for a long time. Val couldn’t swing around to read his face.

  Eventually Moro sighed. “Then what Lyton said is true. Ventana died because of me.”

  “Very likely, Moro,” said Hegen. “We think Levi’s man spilled something about Anya to Sardis. Sardis approached Levi with a plan Levi couldn’t resist and an endgame Levi was too stupid and greedy to see. None of this would have happened, probably, if there hadn’t been a horrible winter storm grounding all ships for weeks. Your parents were trapped on Ventana. She couldn’t get home to have you, where there were Sonta doctors who could keep her body from fighting yours. Begging your pardon, Ambassador, but I think Anya was afraid to go home. We had a modern hospital ready for human birth emergencies. She warned us against trying a C-section on her. She said her secret couldn’t be kept at the hospital and begged us to keep her at Doc’s office.”

  “What did I look like?” Moro asked.

  “Like all babies. Red and squalling. You looked completely human except for two little pointed ears. I know Gran Case said your name came from an Old Earth language, ‘El Moro,’ for ‘the Moor’ or ‘the Dark,’ for your eyes and hair,” said Hegen. “And we let Gran think it. But when Anya birthed you, she said your real name was Taimoro, Sonta for ‘Beloved of the White Storm.’”

  “For the blizzard?” Moro asked.

  Hegen shook his head. “I don’t think so. She made certain her doctors got your full name right. Then begged us not to tell Merrick. She said he’d think it was a curse, not a blessing.”

  “My father wasn’t there?”

  “Merrick had been helping clean ice off the township power generators so we wouldn’t all freeze. We got him back to the clinic in time for him to hold you and a fading Anya. We left to give them some peace. Heard Merrick yell and you scream out twice, worse than when you were born. Doc Carson and I rushed back in to see you bleeding on both sides of your head. Anya’s mouth was bloody. She’d bitten the tips of your ears off, Moro. The last thing she said to us was, ‘Hide him among humans!’ Then Merrick roared for us to ‘take the wretched whelp and leave us!’ Anya died a few minutes later.

  “Doc tidied up your ears. You spent your first year in the crèche, drinking goat’s milk like the other orphans before Merrick ever came to see you. When he picked you up, you howled and fought him until Gran Case took you back.”

  “We never did get along,” whispered Moro. “I hated how grim he was. And he hated it whenever I laughed or smiled. I must have looked like my mother, then. When he got shot, I went to church with Gran Case and asked Father Milos to hear my confession of a mortal sin. He asked what a six-year-old considered to be a mortal sin. I said I was glad Merrick Dalgleish was dead. I could go back to the Ventana crèche and my real family. Now they’re all dead or scattered because of me.”

  “Sardis has been hunting Sonta tech for a hundred years,” said Hegen. “We’ve learned that much. What better than a Sonta slave? I know it hurts to remember, Moro, but did Sardis ever show you any strange artifacts? Books, jewelry, weapons? Things inactive when he touched them but reacting to you?”

  Moro gulped. “One thing. Many times.”

  “What?” Hegen and Alys asked at once.

  “A dark green disc,” Moro said. “Maybe four inches across, one inch deep. It looked like carved jade. The first time I touched it, it opened like this.” He swung clenched hands apart. “Another layer of carving inside, around a central black spot. So black you couldn’t see light in it. It made my fingers numb. Lyton tried to touch it, and it closed. It would never open again for me, but I’d feel it buzzing under my touch before it went dead again.”

  “Some kind of Sonta key?” asked Hegen.

  “Whatever it is, we don’t want Lyton Sardis opening it.” Alys stood up. “You’ve put me in a bind, sons. Tena warned me to get all my folk away from Cedar. Aksenna is roaring in with a grudge against humans. Now I think she might be looking for you, Moro. If there was a quarrel between her and Anya Dalgleish, I’m not c
ertain I dare give you to her. If we run, Aksenna may destroy Cedar for spite and then come after us.”

  Moro pushed Val off his lap and stood. Val sulkily slumped into the sofa.

  “Go, Ambassador Antonin,” said Moro, leaning down to kiss Val’s forehead. “Get the rest of the Camalians to safety. I have to stay and face the dragon. There are billions of people on this planet. They’re doomed if someone doesn’t answer for them. She’ll rip apart the system. She’ll come after the Commonwealth, and we can all feel how terrified Cama is of her!”

  Val felt the elemental’s fear, though she tried to hide it.

  “And it’s you who will face down the Ksala Aksenna, one of the worst star-eaters in legend?” Val stood up quickly enough to feel faint. He grabbed Moro’s hand. “Or is this just another way to step off the damned roof again, Moro, and be a hero while you’re doing it? How many of these humans belong to Rio Sardis or Terra Prima? How many have watched the arena matches for the last eight years?”

  Moro’s black gem eyes softened in an almost cruel look. “Really? How many of them recorded the matches too? You knew a lot more than my arena name, Val,” Moro said in a deep, silky tone. “Don’t be a hypocrite. We’re different. Some people may obsess over us or hate us for it, but we’re all still human. And humanity has to stand together.”

  “Fuck you,” said Val.

  Moro laughed. “We did, didn’t we? It got us here. If you hadn’t, Lyton would have me now or I’d be a splat on pavement. And the dragon would still be coming, only this time, there’d be no one to meet her.”

  “Then we’re both staying!”

  “Valier, you are Liatana’s heir,” said Alys.

  “Then I abdicate! Right now! Tell Mom and Maitland to go have another kid. They’re certainly young enough.” Val turned to glare up at Moro. “I get it now. Why Sardis made you stammer and shake. You made him feel inadequate. You’re a goddamn orator when you get going! All right, hero, what can we do to keep Cedar safe?”

  “Ambassador, you have contacts among the Tena and Danil Sonta?” Moro asked Alys. “R-reach them. Tell them to reach Aksenna’s folk. Tell them about me. Tell them I offer myself as surety if they’ll leave the Cedar and Commonwealth humans alone.”

  “Damn it, Moro!” Val began before Moro’s hand settled loosely over his mouth.

  “Val, either help me think or shut up,” said Moro, hugging him close again.

  Hegen laughed, only stopping when Val glared at him. “I hope you don’t mind that I just recorded that. I couldn’t resist. It’s so like the Moro I knew on Ventana. And it gives me an idea.” He held up a com and pushed part of the screen. Moro’s voice replayed for a few seconds: precise, impassioned, fierce. “We can use this. All the brave self-sacrifice in the galaxy isn’t going to help if no one knows it’s happening or why. Moro, can you stand to go public with your story?”

  “If I do,” said Moro, “Sardis will drop one recording on every news channel in the League.”

  “Let him,” said Hegen. “We’ll strike first. But only if you can face this. I met a journalist last night, Deljou Shannon of Channel 98. She won’t be kind, but she’ll be fair.”

  Moro squared his shoulders. “I have to face this. Call her.”

  Forty-Four

  VAL SHUT OUT the gabble of furious discussion and focused on Moro. The man flinched slightly with every lift in the decibel level.

  Even among friends, Moro was on the edge of a breakdown. What would he do in front of reporters, in public, reliving the horror of his time with Sardis and Kott? Val remembered the Diamond’s cool poise and utter disregard of the arena audiences, a stronger mask than any paint on his face. Moro needed to regain that strength, and quickly.

  “Can you help him, dear heart?” asked Cama. “I think you are the only Camalian who could. But I’m trusting you not to hurt him, either.”

  “I can do this. Can you give us an hour or so, even in this chaos?” Val replied. He tugged at Moro’s hand, lifting his free hand to his lips in a signal for silence. Once they’d eased out of the conference room, Val set off down a corridor.

  “Er, Val,” said Moro, still holding Val’s hand. “Where are we going?”

  “My bedroom.”

  “Val! Your Cama’s a great healer. But you do know the doctors have banned me from sex for another day or so?”

  “Not that kind of sex,” growled Val, thinking furiously. Who knew all those illicit holo channels and merchandise catalogs might actually serve a humanitarian goal someday? If this worked, he’d open a line of credit with the best of them. For now, he had only inspiration and a few simple tools.

  He keyed open the door lock and dragged a grinning, unresisting Moro inside. He locked the door behind them. Moro’s tremors were mostly gone, part of Val’s brain noticed. Then Moro drew him closer, into a deep, sweet kiss.

  When both men broke for air, Moro whispered, “I know what you’re doing, husband. Distracting me. What do you want? My mouth again? Me, in you? We’d need hours for that, to do it right.”

  Val gasped and regained control. “No.” He turned away, spotted a low, relatively uncluttered worktable. Nothing important on it. “Grab some pillows from the bed.” Val swept the debris noisily onto the floor. He kicked sharper items out of range. From the workshop side of his suite he gathered a large plastic bowl, some ice water, and a clean shop towel. He placed that out of reach but only a few steps away.

  When Val turned back, he saw Moro clutching the big, soft amber pillows to his chest.

  “Not the b-bed?” asked Moro.

  Val tugged the pillows away from him and arranged them flat on the worktable. “No. Do you trust me?”

  Moro took a deep breath and calmed his halting voice. “Val, please. I’m here. I didn’t jump. I married you.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “I think I could.”

  “Good. See? I’m wearing you down already.” Val lifted his hands to cup that glorious face. Now that he could think again, he noted the faint tingle that had greeted his every contact with Moro’s skin. A whisper of pleasure that faded, renewing with each new caress. He remembered penetration. Even awkward, bloody, and fraught with grief, the sensation had been nearly volcanic, a Sonta allure that had driven stronger men than Val into deadly obsession.

  Like the Leopard. Val spared a thought for Mateo. “Cama, remind me to check on them?”

  She was silent, but Val felt her approval warm as sunshine.

  Val guessed another side to Moro’s attraction. Especially if Moro was descended from the Aksenna Sonta tribe! “Do you trust me?” he asked again.

  “Yes,” said Moro, catching some of Val’s intent. The man stood straighter, shoulders up, head alert, hands held loose and waiting at his sides.

  Val took a deep breath. “Take off your clothes.”

  Moro would have lingered at it, still smiling, folding and setting down each piece before going to the next.

  “We’ve no time for a striptease,” said Val, keeping his voice calm and assured. It wasn’t easy. “Get naked and crouch on the table facing me. On the pillow. Balanced on your feet, knees spread. Lock your wrists behind you.”

  Moro was completely focused on him now, the grin gone along with the wariness it masked. The view was breathtaking, Val thought, stepping forward to adjust Moro’s posture with a firm hand here or there. Once in the stress position on the yielding, uncertain surface, the man’s honed muscles held strong. His big, flaccid cock lay along his feet, the head almost brushing a pillow. Val brushed a featherlight caress along the shaft.

  Moro groaned. His cock stiffened upward into a jutting arc. “Val,” he whispered. “Touch me again.”

  “Not yet,” said Val, startled at how different his own arousal felt. This wasn’t a teenage game but a powerful ritual enacted for the most tender of reasons. His own urgency receded into an almost meditative calm. “You were shaking earlier. You’re not shaking now. This feels right, doesn’t it? You’re strong
enough, skilled enough, to take anything I throw at you. You can take me down if I go too far. So anything that happens now, happens because you want it to happen.”

  Moro’s black eyes widened. “You little monster. You want dominance play, now?”

  Val pressed against Moro’s back, throwing his taut body slightly out of balance. “No. You want it.”

  Moro gasped. His cock jumped, one clear bead of liquid showing at the slit.

  “Now stay there, no matter what.” Val slipped out of his sleep clothing and leaned in to kiss Moro’s nipples.

  Moro squeaked, skin shuddering. He got his voice back in a lower register, a growl that sent flames down Val’s spine. “May I speak?”

  “Oh, speak, shout, curse. Whatever you want. Just don’t move.” Ignoring Moro’s groans, Val laved each nipple until it was peaked and glistening. He slipped lower, between Moro’s splayed knees, and gave that amazing cock a preliminary lick along the slit. Moro tasted wonderful, all clean skin and sexual musk. He was so big he stretched Val’s mouth, and so long it took both hands to slick and massage down to the root and testicles. Val felt Moro begin to tremble again, still unbalanced and leaning on Val for support. The sinewy arms shivered as if wanting to reach for him.

  “Don’t move,” Val ordered again, gratified to feel how instantly still Moro became. “I’m not done.” He reached behind Moro’s back, unhooked the lowest steel clip from Moro’s crest. In front of Moro’s face, Val tested the clip against his own skin, the loose fold between left thumb and forefinger. It stung but not horribly. He released it, noting Moro’s responsive hiss. “I saw you looking at it earlier. Where do you want this?”

  “G-glans,” breathed Moro, whimpering when Val set the clip in the underside of his cockhead, into a pinched fold of foreskin just back from his dripping slit.

  The clear, thick liquid inspired another foray. Val wiped his hand on the pillow. He reached up to pull out two of his pale-gold hairs. Moro’s eyes were closed, his expression almost blank. The man barely reacted when Val trailed some of Moro’s pre-emission onto each nipple, using it as glue to hold the hair wrapped loosely around each peak. Nor did he move when Val repeated the procedure with more hairs trailed down his belly and coiled around his cock.