by P. S. Power
She started breathing a bit hard and finally just shook her head, not letting more chuckles come out.
"Oh... Well." She stared at him and then counted on her fingers for a while. "Well... If you're a Harris from that line, then you'd be my second cousin? That isn't too bad. We definitely don't want to have kids together, thanks to all the crossings in the past, but otherwise it shouldn't be too huge of a deal. I never... It hadn't occurred to me that you weren't a commoner, really. You were small and had dark hair... The right skin for it." Then she looked up at the ceiling and bowed, low.
"I'm sorry for all the insults I gave you, not knowing the truth. Please forgive me?" She stood up right away, which either meant she didn't really mean it, or more likely, that she didn't think he was going to hold a grudge. He was crushed, of course, but...
Did it really make a difference? He loved her and she, for her own reasons, was never going to feel the same way in return. He knew that, and had known it. Not why, but even having that bit of information didn't fix things, did it? He didn't have some clever magic to change her mind and wouldn't use it even if he had. That way always led to ruin in all the old stories, didn't it? A plain girl would capture the handsome young man with a love potion, or some kind of charm, and it led to horrible things taking place. Often with the young man leaving with her worst rival.
Not that he had to worry about that. Patty was already gone. He knew that, and even felt it, but couldn't let her go yet. It wasn't fair. Nothing ever was, however. He'd learned that as a child and in his entire life, nothing had ever shown him that things were really any different that way. Even the life of a noble wasn't fair. It was a world filled with threats, coercion and sometimes pain.
Just like the humble one that he'd come from.
That he couldn't be with Patty now because they turned out to be distant relatives, well, that wasn't something that changed the outcome. She hadn't been suggesting that they run off together or anything in the first place. She couldn't. Because when she looked at him, it made her feel bad. He forced her to remember her darkest moments, and that, not the rape, or his failing, was going to keep them apart.
So, yes, not good or reasonable, but also nothing that was going to change. It hurt, but he'd live. He always had before. Even when he hadn't wanted to.
"You know, it's fine. We can be friends, and it will be enough." Only, in the end, he didn't think that was true. Not that he wouldn't be fine with it, eventually, but that Patty wasn't going to ever really like him again. She could force herself to go through the motions, but more than that? He didn't know, and it left him feeling horrible. Collapsed inside and as small and helpless as he ever had.
She held his hand, and didn't pull away, but she wouldn't have, would she? Not after what he'd just said.
"Thank you. I... Don't want to lose you, Gerent."
That sounded like she actually meant it. He understood that as well. That feeling that everything you had was tied in to a person that caused you fear and pain just to look at. The only thing he could do was try to be worthy of what feelings she did have and never let the negative ones have purchase due to anything he did.
Gerent let himself smile and look away, as if he were shy and not fighting back tears. Then he dropped her hand and tried to feel strong, inside. It didn't come, but trying never really hurt.
After a while, with him just standing there, she pushed his shoulder a little bit. It wasn't enough to make his automatic shield engage, but she followed it with a mock scowl.
"So, if you were handing out planets and entire kingdoms earlier, how come you didn't save one for your friend? Hmm? What's with that? Good enough for you to have forbidden cousin sex with, but not get any of the good stuff?"
Not that they'd ever had that close of a relationship. They probably never would, for all that she kept hinting at it. It wasn't the kind of thing people said when they were serious about wanting you. She was trying to make herself seem like she wanted it. Which was, he bet, all about her. She wasn't fooling him, and didn't need to. So this was really all just about how she felt and what she thought should be happening. It was... Actually kind of sweet of her. She didn't want him, but was willing to do it anyway, even if they turned out to be too close genetically?
He hadn't been raised like most people, so the idea, while he knew it was wrong, didn't have the same sting, he didn't think. She could have suggested that she was his sister and it wouldn't have made any difference to him. Not like poor Tor and the Queen.
That had been one of the very first things that Tor had told him when they met. Not even that he was Tor, just that he'd been having sex with someone that had turned out to basically be his daughter. Queen Constance. There was magic involved there, and a bit of liberty taken with the idea that she was his child, naturally. Someone had used Count Lairdgren's seed to make her, without him knowing about it. That was why Queen Constance was older than Tor by about twenty years. Still, sort of his kid, at the same time. It was even closer with Veronica. Of course, Gerent could have sex with her and it would be fine. So at least there was that. Either of those ladies, come to think about it.
He smiled about the idea, gave his friend a pat on the arm that he didn't think she'd take the wrong way, and then cleared his throat.
"Oh, well, you know, I'm pulling you in to be my spymaster." He said it confidently, and then winked when she looked at him like he'd gone insane. "That's what you call it right? One of the big problems that the old ancients had was that they got away with doing a lot of things in secret. I don't even think it was about hiding there at the end, just them being too far away from the others. So it will be your job to make sure that can't happen again."
Not that it was his job to even suggest something like that, but if what Tim had hinted at was true, she was probably as good a person for the job as anyone.
"Um... Wouldn't that take a lot of training? I don't even know where I'd get it..." She was using her phony voice. Pretending to be innocent. It wasn't bad, but he could tell the difference, he realized.
His words didn't have that in it at all.
"Sure, but if you can't figure that out, then we need someone else for the job, don't we? I expect weekly reports." Then, as if it weren't a joke, he walked out, leaving her standing inside, alone.
Then he shut the door on her. It hurt to do that, but it had to be done.
For her sake.
The honest truth was that the best he could give her was an absence of him. That didn't make the world any better, and might not even let the woman he loved feel good about anything, but it was all he had for her that didn't cause even more pain.
So he went out into the world beyond that little door, shutting it on her in his heart. Alone.
Chapter eleven
Harmony was a fascinating place, filled with bright colors and glowing things at every turn. Everything was nice. From the lights to the scent in the air, the color of the walls, and the different styles that everyone wore as they walked along doing their shopping. The only thing that they all had in common there was the bags they carried. They all, for some reason, were brown. Made of heavy cloth, like canvas, and have handles on the top that looked like they were ready to support the weight of a man or woman in a pinch.
Even the kids that dashed along had them, though he realized after a moment that they were all dressed the same too. All in brown, matching the filled bags they carried. Coming out of a single door down the hall. They rushed out, and even if it was later in the day than he'd thought people would be doing such things, Gerent had to figure that they were getting out of classes for the day.
Part of that idea came down to the fact that the Baker kids, all of them that had been at the meeting, went back to that door, carrying similar things themselves. He didn't check on them, since it was clearly something expected.
There was no screaming or running away at least. That was a good sign. Walking down the white, very grand, stone hall, he decided to be a little daring
and stick his head in a few places to see what was there. They had shops, and if he tried he could even read the name on a few things. There was an eatery named Marissa's, for instance, back toward where he came from. He hadn't met her yet, but Gerent knew the Ancient clone Monroe, who said that she was his sister, after a fashion. Both Marissa and Monroe had been brought back through the ages, reborn and given the minds of the people they once were, in order to act as the slave of Gray.
That lady, who looked identical to Laurie, his adopted sister, after a fashion, hadn't been well near the end. She was, more than anyone else, the person that had tried to kill them all and destroy the Earth. It was her fault that he had to spend his time desperately trying to make sure everyone lived, instead of just planting things in the Wildlands and making it into a giant garden of exotic Afrak low water plants.
Not that Gerent was going to waste time maligning the lady. She'd been insane, and that had hurt a lot of people, but hating her now was just going to waste his energy. People did bad things from time to time. It was important to stop them, if you could. That was all. Then you cleaned up the mess, if it was possible, and went on. So that was his job, for the time being. Cleaning up after her.
The first place he stuck his head in was a likely enough looking establishment. It had a small, but fast moving, line, inside the door, and seemed to be the colony's version of a general store. There were lines and rows of goods, in a number and variety that Gerent nearly boggled at. People just filled their bags, taking whatever they wanted, and then left, without haggling or even doing more than waving at the shopkeeper, who didn't seem to mind being robbed. He had a counter, and behind it a ten foot long device that Gerent recognized, at least in theory. It was a Maker. Like the one that Tiera had gifted him with. The blond man worked with fair industry, watching what was removed from the shelves, and then making replacements for them, doing small batches at once.
Ger watched for a bit, until the man turned and bowed to him, his face looking like he wanted to sell him something. So, normal for a Noram merchant, but it was a bit strange to see here. Maybe the look said that he really wanted something else? Just to be extra helpful?
Or to have sex with him?
As soon as the man started speaking, Gerent had a sneaking suspicion that it was that one.
"Well, hello there! Are you looking for work? I might have a position open, if you don't mind sharing a bed with me later? Just an idea. If you already have your own... Well, come share mine anyway?" The words were almost purred, and so heavy handed that he smiled, thinking that, no matter the real intent, it had to be a joke.
Then he thought about it for a moment and shook his head. If this man, who was shorter than he was, but clearly tall enough to have some noble blood in his family history, had done that in the Capital, he'd probably have been successful a good portion of the time. With commoners, while they'd be scandalized, they wouldn't have wanted to risk offending the man, and with nobles they would have at least played along, for much the same reason. They had complicated rules about things like that. So it was a good enough strategy, for Noram. People from other places probably wouldn't take to it all that well, but, Gerent realized, the man hadn't been going after the women, or even men, from Afrak or Tellerand that were in the shop that way, only him. He was the tallest person around, and that clearly meant a noble. From his own land too, which would mean he followed the same rules, most of the time.
He could hear the accent of the Capital in his voice, too. Rich and a bit stuffy sounding, lacking any slurred words or mumbling at all.
"Not right now, as for a job. Or bed warming duties. Later perhaps? I'm actually just looking around before I head back to Earth." He bowed back, figuring that being polite wouldn't hurt. After all the man had offered to have sex with him. That was pretty polite. Especially since they didn't know each other, and for all that it had been heavy handed, it wasn't said in a menacing fashion.
The man's face didn't even fall, hearing the words.
"Really? That's impressive! How are you getting back? I didn't think the next Space Fleet vessel was due to dock for nearly two weeks. Is my sister here?"
Gerent tilted his head, working things out a lot more easily than they would have come once. He hadn't really noticed the effect before, but once Patty had pointed it out, it seemed clear. Somewhere along the line, he'd gained intelligence. That was probably due to what Tor had done, but it wasn't certain. Timon might have had a hand in it. He was the one that did most of the pattern changing that way, and they'd certainly been around each other a lot more than he had with Tor, as nice as the man was to him.
"Is Sara your sister? I don't think she's here. I have my own space craft." He smiled, and watched the man carefully. "Gerent Lairdgren. Envoy." He felt like he should stick out his hand, but managed not to. In this case it would have been the wrong thing to do.
The blond man just shook his head a little.
"That would explain it then! I've heard about you. So, if you don't have time for fun, is there anything you need? We have loads of goods and can even do first run designs if you want? That can take longer, but it's always nice to know you have the option, since it means that no one is ever really stuck without something for long."
He shook his head and winked, trying to flirt back with the man a bit. He looked to be about eighteen, and was cute. Not the type he would have picked on his own, being a bit more manly than he liked, but pretending that he couldn't, or wouldn't have sex with him was probably a bit too much. He'd learned far too often that you did what you had to, in order to keep the peace and not be hurt. Not that this man intended any harm to him, he didn't think.
"I'm actually good for the time being. Just killing a bit of time. Going shop to shop before I call my crew back in. Well, nice to meet you. Sorry, I didn't get your name." He waited, hoping that was the right thing to say.
"Kurt, Kurt Debri. I run this place, the Debri merchant hub for the Moon. Of course we don't actually sell anything, and this is the only shop so far, but when the other cities start to open up, we plan to have new locations in each." He let his eyelids droop a bit and ducked his head, just a little, looking up over his pale cream colored sued outfit. "Nice to meet you, Gerent. Do come back, next time you're in Harmony?"
He nodded back, and didn't suggest that he either would or wouldn't. It wouldn't hurt to have the man as a contact, but his schedule was uncertain, and he didn't want to make it seem like he was promising things he didn't have the time to deliver on.
Luckily Kurt got back to work then, a real customer, a small Tellerand woman that actually made eye contact with him, dressed all in black, with a long skirt and head covering to protect her hair. Not much skin showed, but what did was pale. Like Timon or Tiera was.
The next shop over was another surprise, since it wasn't a shop at all, but a whore house. Right there in the open, on the main strip of the city. When he looked in, smiling, he was met by a decently familiar face. It took a few seconds for him to recall her name, but she'd been at the meeting, since she was immortal. They'd met before, and he'd just heard what she was called too. It was right there, on his lips, refusing to come out of his mouth for some reason. After a bit he fairly blurted it out.
"Sherri?" He said the name as a question, hoping that was right. It would be rude for him not to know, after having gotten her a space station to be in charge of.
"Gerent! Have you come for sex? We have some very exotic and talented women here. Men too. This is the slow time of the day, but things will be picking up soon, so it's a good time to find someone that isn't busy. Here, let me call for-" She seemed serious and also like she was in charge. She was in a lace dress, all in black and red, like a madam, not a whore herself. She started to wave at someone in the back, but he shook his head.
"Just looking, honestly. Is everyone here preoccupied with sex then?" She looked baffled by that, until he related the story about Kurt, from next door, which got her to make a face.
"Oh... him." She looked around and leaned in, a scent of musky perfume wafting from her. It was Gerent's favorite, too. One that Patty had invented. It was a hobby of hers. That this girl, who was far too young to be running a place like this in his experience, had some was... Probably to be expected. Patty lived here and there weren't that many people like them. So it made sense that they'd know each other and even be friends.
She whispered a bit, trying to keep her opinion just between them. "He... has troubles. Real ones. No matter how often he has sex, he always wants more. It isn't normal, or charming either. If it weren't for him being right next to us here, I think he'd probably be getting into a lot of difficulties about now. As it is the guard has to watch and make certain he isn't trying for underage boys and girls, or the Afrak men. I'm not sure what to do about it, so mainly I've been trying to ignore the problem. Still, most people here aren't that hung up on sex, no. Less than back home, to be honest. The thing is, here, people have us, this place. They know they can just come in and find someone, no matter who they are, and it's free, so a lot of pressure is taken off that way. It seems to reduce a lot of problems. Between this place and the shields, we haven't had any rapes at all, for instance. Fewer fights or attacks as well." She smiled as if it were a joke, and looked up at him with her green eyes. They were pretty, and made up with heavy black lines around them for affect.
She gave him a charming little hug as he walked to the door, after a bit more small talk.
The Prince of Noram had a wine shop, which ran much like the general goods place, people just taking what they needed. The guard station was interesting however, since the men and women there were dressed all in light blue jumpsuits, like what Austran people wore, and didn't have any weapons visible at all. In fact, when he popped his head in, the lady behind the counter waved at him. It was a friendly thing, and she wore a genuinely pleased look on her face.