First Salik War 2: The V'Dan

by Jean Johnson

  “When you are feeling dizzy from Jackie’s fever spilling into your brain, you are dizzy. You are not suffering from the jungen fever that she is, but you are suffering from a sympathetic fever. That fever is real, and your V’Dan medical guides on taking all fevers seriously is why I am insisting on putting you into an infirmary bed. The reason why it is a bed next to the Ambassador’s is because this is being caused by your Gestalt link, which means the cure lies in the Gestalt link.

  “And the reason why I am repeating all these points is because your people don’t know more than three things about holy pairings, whereas our people have been scientifically studying them for generations,” Maria added tartly. “Now, because this is a side effect of the holy entangling of your brains, you are under doctor’s orders to hold hands as much as possible while you both recover. But not when you have to go to the washroom. Two fever-weakened people trying to support each other are two people who are too close to falling down and injuring both of themselves.

  “Keep the monitoring bracelets on you at all times. I want both Terran and V’Dan medical equipment scanning the two of you at all times. With luck, your presence will trim a day or two off the Ambassador’s recovery, so get to it, lie back, and relax,” the doctor ordered.

  Jackie, having already anticipated the order to hold hands, slid her fingers against Li’eth’s the moment he reached for her. His skin felt extra warm, and the pressure of those fingers entwining with hers hurt her joints, but she bore it without complaint. Any pressure was enough to make her body ache; that was a side effect of the virus propagating through the cells of her body, rewriting her genetics. Even the blanket draped up to her waist hurt her hips and legs, not to mention her toes.

  “And how are you feeling?” Maria asked her, moving to Jackie’s side of the conjoined beds. Her eyes were busy reading the monitors, but Jackie knew the older woman was listening.

  “Achy, overly hot, exhausted, and more than ready for this to end,” she muttered. “Beyond ready. This is far worse than the mild discomforts of acquiring and suffering each other’s versions of the common cold—and yes, I know it’s because it’s rewriting my body.”

  “Good. You are only allowed to whine once per day about it. Focus instead on your partner. See if the two of you can speed up the process and alleviate your joint fever.” She leaned over Jackie’s bed, peering at Li’eth’s bank of monitors, and nodded. “¡Muy bien! Already I am seeing biometric movement in all the right directions. Subtle, but it is there. I will be back after supper to check on both of you. Behave.”

  With that, the dark-haired doctor bustled out again, shooing the last of the Terran guards ahead of her. Tired as she was, Jackie couldn’t quite get back to sleep just yet. She peeked at Li’eth, feeling how warm he was, seeing the exhaustion in his face. As much as she wanted to reach out to him with her mind, she was aware of how much they were being monitored in this moment. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “I’m actually suffering from an excess of it. I suspect it’s the bond that has been making me so sleepy,” he added. He lifted his other hand to his mouth, stifling a yawn behind it.

  “They gave me medicine to help me sleep my way through this,” Jackie pointed out. “That’s undoubtedly spilling over onto you, too, along with the fever.”

  He nodded sleepily, then sent privately, (Maria was thinking very, ah . . . “loudly” . . . when she examined me.)

  (Yes?) Jackie prodded him when he hesitated.

  (I picked up from her thoughts that the reason why she waited two full days before insisting on examining me . . . was to ensure there would be plenty of medical evidence to back up the realities of our Gestalt. I think she wanted me to hear those thoughts. Was it wrong to read them, if her permission was unspoken?) Li’eth asked.

  (Not at all.) Curling onto her side, she tugged that hand free, switching to the other one so that her right arm could tuck under her pillow. (She knew in advance that you’re a telepath, she knows that touching someone at our level of strength increases the likelihood that you’ll overhear her thoughts, and that is something the crafty woman would do. This way she can extemporize an excuse, such as, “Oh, I wasn’t sure the Gestalt was strong enough that her fever would resonate onto him. But clearly it did, so there’s another proof of their holy bond for you, I guess . . .”)

  He smiled faintly. (Devious Terrans. Plots within plots. Such a doubt would be very reasonable to my people, even generous in the face of their own doubt. And she’s not lying about it, either. She’s telling the specialists monitoring our every move what she’s doing, but doing it in a way that will invite everyone to look at the proofs without forcing them to look.)

  (Her bedside manner is a bit stern and demanding, but she does know how to juggle reactions in her patients,) Jackie agreed.

  (Those watchers aren’t her patients,) he dismissed.

  (Are you sure about that?) she challenged him. (Terran medicine addresses the mind as well as the body, you know. What she’s doing is similar to a massage, I think. Jostling them out of their tight, closed positions, getting them to loosen up and open up to new ideas coming along. We all have our . . . ’scuse the yawn . . . our techniques for that.)

  “That was a big yawn,” he murmured out loud. “Why don’t you sleep? I’ll stay awake awhile longer, and keep watch.”

  (Heh,) she chuckled sleepily. (Good luck with that. I’m about to go out like a light . . . and I think you are, too . . .)

  (Perhaps. It’s frustrating that I finally get to sleep with you . . . and it’s still under tight . . .) He paused for a big yawn of his own. ( . . . surveillance.)

  She managed a mental snort before dropping off, both sympathetic yet realistic about their situation.

  —

  The call came while Jackie and Li’eth were chuckling over some of Dr. Qua’s stories involving various different genetic-therapy patients over the years. Since both were lying in bed, snacking on fruit cups from Terran food packets that had been freshly delivered in the last few days, Qua broke off her story and moved to the commscreen when the machine beeped.

  “Now, who could be calling you?” she asked. Glancing over her lavender-spotted shoulder, she gestured at the beeping screen. “Should I . . . ?”

  “Go right ahead,” Li’eth directed her, setting his dessert aside on the overbed table that had been pulled into place. It had been decided before supper had been served that he would eat from the Terrans’ food supplies, so as not to contaminate the room with V’Dan histamines before the genetic changes had settled. Ever since the dispatched ships had come back from the halfway point laden with a plethora of packets, the Terrans had been happily selecting their favorites rather than being given random packets and having to find someone willing to trade.

  Some were now quite able to have V’Dan food, and were carefully beginning their introduction to the local dishes, albeit with monitoring bracelets and food journals in which they were methodically writing down everything they experienced. “For posterity” and “For science” and “For potential trade” were all phrases being bandied about. But they still craved familiar flavors. More than that, this stuff wasn’t space food, overly seasoned in an attempt to compensate for the perennially stuffed-up nose that troubled a traveler in zero gravity.

  The screen snapped on, and all thoughts of food vanished from Li’eth’s head. His mother, formally dressed in her War Queen regalia, stared sternly through the pickups. “We will speak with His Imperial Highness, Kah’raman—”

  Qua quickly dipped her head and moved to the side. “—Of course, Eternity.”

  As soon as she was out of direct view, Qua tugged on the positioning arm for the commscreen, bringing it over to the bed and angling it just so, so that its pickups were aimed at Li’eth’s head. The moment the monitor was in place, she quickly slunk out of the room. To his left, Jackie quietly set her own fruit cup on her own bedsi
de table and leaned on her elbow to watch the screen.

  “Imperial Prince Kah’raman,” Empress Hana’ka stated formally. “It has been brought to our attention that you are acting inappropriately with a juvenile.”

  The what . . . ? Face flushing with rage, not just her fever, or even any sense of embarrassment, Jackie grabbed the edge of the monitor and jerked it so that it angled toward her, not toward the Empress’ son. Between his presence and their meal, she had enough energy at the moment for some righteous indignation and had no fear of unleashing it.

  “That is enough! Pay attention, Empress: I am four years older than your son! If anyone is robbing the cradle here, as my people would say, I am as the older person. Furthermore, what we are doing is exactly what we are supposed to be doing. We are spending time in physical proximity to each other to ensure we both remain healthy, as is required of a Gestalt pairing.”

  (Jackie, please—!) Li’eth tried to interject, even as his mother narrowed her eyes in anger.

  She ignored his mental plea and that affronted glare. “Every single time I and my people get called a juvenile by your people, it is an insult to our people. You call us juveniles because we are markless, despite our repeatedly telling you how, even in V’Dan time measurements, every single person in this embassy is a full adult. To constantly degrade our maturity and respectability is giving your people a very negative impression to my people. Frankly, meioa, I would think it patently obvious that insulting the very allies your own prophecies say you need to win this war is the stupidest thing you could possibly do!”

  Hana’ka’s eyes widened far enough that the whites could be seen all the way around her gray irises.

  “I can only assume you are, one and all, doing it out of sheer, mindless, unthinking ignorance,” Jackie added, reining in her temper so that she could be diplomatic. Blunt, but diplomatic. “And I will graciously instruct my people to forgive and forget every single one of those many insults which have occurred up until this very moment. Your debt is therefore wiped clean, Empress. Be gracious enough to realize that this is the proper, diplomatic thing for me to do. But now that you do know how much your people are insulting mine, Eternity, I suggest instead that you take pains to start watching every single thing you and your people say to my people.

  “We are not juveniles. We are adults. We are not V’Dan. We are Terrans. So please, stop treating us like juvenile V’Dan,” she warned the red-faced, burgundy-striped woman on the other end of the commscreen. “As for how much time we are spending together, your son and I are bound together in ways that, if we are forced to stay separated, will negatively affect both our health. These negative effects include depression, anxiety, paranoia, despondency, agitation, spontaneous teleportation, and a distinct decline in health, up to and including possible death.

  “All of these have been tracked and documented for well over a hundred years by Terran scientists. All of these have also been outlined, summarized, reported on in detail, cross-linked to V’Dan instances of similarity, and . . . that report was sent yesterday, wasn’t it?” she asked Li’eth.

  “The day before yesterday, about three hours V’Dan Standard after your injection with the modified jungen virus,” Li’eth told her. (And I have never seen my mother so speechless, before. I am not certain if this is a good thing or a terrible thing. I do know that no one has ever dared speak to her like this before, but she may simply be waiting to see how much you offend her before you are through.)

  “Thank you. All of that was reported to your people two days ago, Empress,” Jackie continued, choosing to ignore her partner’s cautionary sending. “I realize that may not have been enough time for even the briefest of summaries to have reached you, but I suggest very politely that you back off, find that report, read it, and only then—after contemplating everything in that report—you may request a polite conversation on how it might affect Terran-V’Dan relations. My government has already considered numerous questions to that effect, and they have chosen to continue placing their trust in me as their selected representative.

  “I give you their reassurances as well as my own that I am quite capable of keeping the needs of my nation separate from the needs of myself in this unexpected, inadvertent, and entirely accidental holy pairing. The strength of our Terran representational government lies in our honor and our honesty, and I have both. Now, if you choose not to believe me right away, I can understand that,” Jackie allowed. “But my government requests that you give this situation time to see that my words and my deeds match in their integrity, displaying both honor and honesty in abundance.

  “I trust, Empress, that I have satisfied the polite questions you no doubt had in mind when you called?” she asked.

  “. . . Are you finished?” Empress Hana’ka asked bluntly.

  Jackie thought about it a moment, then stated, “No. Whatever idiot thought you should be so pestered and bothered by their prejudices and paranoia as to have to make this call should be chastised because they stirred up far too much trouble. All of which could have been alleviated immediately by stopping to think, to assess, to remember that I am not a V’Dan, and which should have been very easily smoothed over by the simple expediency of remembering I am not V’Dan.

  “From our perspective, Empress, we Terrans stopped treating each other poorly on the basis of our skin color over a hundred years ago. To insult our palpable maturity based purely on our skin color—including our lack of marks—and to treat us as though we have no responsibility, no maturity, and no authority simply because of skin color is an archaic insult that we find both bewildering and deeply offensive. Particularly when your subordinates keep going to Dr. Jai Du as if she is the ultimate authority.

  “I will state this very clearly: Jai Du is not a designated arbiter. She does not have any authority in this embassy outside of her specialization as a pathologist and a medical doctor. If your people have a problem with any of my people, they need to bring those concerns either to me or to Rosa McCrary. We are the only two with arbitration power in this embassy. Ideally, all such queries should be sent through McCrary, unless it deals with her specifically, then it should be brought to my attention. If at any point it is a matter in which I do need to be involved, it will be brought to my attention.

  “This was outlined in the list of protocol questions we answered. That your people should request such protocols be arranged only to ignore the proper, requested procedures does not leave a good impression, Empress. The same as how insulting us by ignoring our actual maturity in favor of some arbitrary skin marks does not give a good impression,” Jackie stated. “Your people need to understand that we do consider such things insults and that we will only tolerate so much disrespect before we will be forced to take appropriate action.” Her body felt tired and achy from the fever, her mind racing with energy from her meal. Pausing only a moment, Jackie said gravely, “. . . Now I am finished. I thank you for listening with such courtesy and patience, Empress.”

  Hana’ka stared for a long moment, her mouth pressed tight. When she spoke, it was in clipped tones—more clipped than the usual glottal-stop-filled V’Dan. “You speak to me as if you are my equal—”

  “—I am your equal, Empress,” Jackie asserted sternly. “My government is a representational government. I represent the Terran United Planets. All of it. My equals in the scope of representation are the Secondaire and Premiere. As an Ambassador, I have the right to propose legislation, and the right of the executive branch to see that any treaties are carried out as they pertain to Terran interests in the greater galactic community. I cannot single-handedly authorize a treaty, nor turn a proposed law into an actual law, but those are among only a very few limitations on my power.

  “I am third-ranked, yes, but third-ranked in a government system completely unlike your own. I am not the equivalent of a child who stands to inherit. I am not a princess to any throne. I am higher ranked than any
princess could ever be. Nor have I been given my great authority on a whim. My people have voted to grant me the power to determine all policies in regards to how your people are handled—they bestowed their confidence in me knowing of the holy pairing your son and I are now in. With that vote, I have the power to veto any suggestions you make about your treaties with us. I hold the authority to send our ships into battle at your side. I also hold the power to send them into your face. I am responsible for all such orders, and I must report my reasons to the Council as a whole and be judged accordingly, but that does not make me a subordinate.

  “I say it again, and I hope you carve it into your brain this time: I am not V’Dan. My people are not V’Dan. Our government is not V’Dan. Terrans are not V’Dan. We are the same species, but we are not the same culture,” Jackie asserted. “Your son is attempting to remind me telepathically not to insult you, but this is not an insult. This is information you clearly need in order to be able to accept, assimilate, and access it each and every time you address one of us. In a representational government, when I say I represent the entire Terran United Planets when I stand before you . . . or lie here in an infirmary bed,” she amended wryly, “then that means I am your equal.

  “So yes, I can and do speak to you as a peer, Empress Hana’ka V’Daania,” Jackie told her. “I realize you are not accustomed to considering very many people your equal, and none of them a fellow Human, a member of your same species, before now. But until the Secondaire or the Premiere stand here with me, outranking me in person, I have that level of authority. There is nothing you can do or say to remove that power from me. Only an act of the Terran Council can do so. You are not Terran and have no vote in such matters. Just as I have no say in your being Empress of V’Dan.

  “I apologize for diverting your planned speech, but it is clear that there are a lot of preconceptions and misconceptions that need to be clarified between us. I admit that I have an advantage in that I have been able to ask His Highness many questions about your government structure, and that you have not had any similar opportunities of your own. One day, we will both hopefully know enough about each other that such interruptions will no longer be necessary.”