Broken Vision

by J. A. Clarke

  It was all Maegan could do to stay standing as memories assaulted her. "We were physically attracted to one another. So? It was an interlude. People move on. He remembers none of that anyway. This way he can choose a mate better suited to who and what he wants to be."

  "You're deluding yourself and you're a coward." Sharm's brutal coldness was far from the kind man she thought she knew. "I have never seen two people better suited for one another. You're giving up on him when he needs you the most, because you're afraid to face a future not of your choosing. Where's the enormous courage and compassion that put you into that network rescuing children?"

  He grabbed for his comm, which now emitted a constant buzz, and glanced at it. "I have to go." He raised a stern, unyielding gaze to Maegan. "Stay here. I mean it. Do not make me come after you."

  In the cold, empty silence, Maegan stared at the closed door and whispered, "You're so wrong. He doesn't need me. There is nothing left of what we had."

  Except her love for a man who looked at her without a shred of recognition in his icy, sapphire eyes.

  * * * *

  Against the advice of two medtechs, Alerik had checked himself out of the clinic. He couldn't lie hooked up to machines while others decided the course of his life.

  Earlier in the day, his quorum had failed him. Not one member had agreed to the dissolution of his marriage partnership. Sharm Foster, once loyal friend, second and staunch supporter, had actually demanded he wait for forty cycles before gathering the quorum again.

  Forty cycles! What did they know about his marriage partnership that he couldn't remember and his mate hadn't told him?

  He strode beneath an arch of sillban trees, whose large, thick, silver-green leaves offered some relief from the scorching sun. He couldn't even remember if this was the hottest day he had experienced on Pallas Five. The deserted path was also unfamiliar. Thickly planted with trees and shrubs on either side, it wound through a grid of squat buildings. Nothing on Pallas Five appeared higher than five levels. Overhead, above the tree canopy, a shuttle zipped by on the single track. It would have been faster, but he had needed to walk, needed to think, needed to release some energy.

  He also, apparently, needed to have another conversation with his mate. His comm directed him to turn. He was close to the building he had lived in as governor, and of which he had no memory.

  He inhaled warm air scented with the sharp sweetness of some bloom. If nothing else, it felt good to be out of the sterile atmosphere of the clinic and especially the confines of the healing pod.

  The medtechs weren't certain how much, if any, of his memory would return. It was odd how he could so clearly remember his childhood, his academy training, his first three assignments. He appeared to have all his memories right up until the time the governorship of Pallas Five had been offered, then it all dropped into a frustrating, nightmarish black void. Sharm had even told him he'd had a choice between the governorship and a lesser seat on the Coalition Council.

  Why in Sagar's name would he have chosen the governorship of an obscure little asteroid belt?

  He was becoming more convinced it all led back to his mate, Maegan Shale.

  He left the shaded path and started up the steps to the governor's habitat.

  His comm buzzed with Sharm's code. He wasn't terribly inclined to speak with him at the moment. Sharm hadn't supported his decision to leave the clinic either.

  The years of a trusting relationship won out. "Yes?" he snapped.

  "Thought you might like to know." Sharm sounded far too cheerful for a man who'd had a shouting match with him earlier. "The Doganlite has just arrived. Your parents are aboard."

  Why didn't that surprise him? Alerik stopped at the door of the habitat. He turned to look back at the city. The pale yellow stone of the buildings shimmered in the fierce sun. "I just arrived at the habitat. I need some time." Inspiration struck. "Get them together with her parents."

  "Not sure that's a good idea. You know both sets gave enthusiastic consent to your marriage partnership?"

  "How would I know that?" Alerik said curtly. His irritation and confusion notched up another level. His parents had supported the marriage? With enthusiasm? Not something he could picture, especially from his father.

  "Right." Sharm was unrepentant. "Just wanted to warn you, they're more likely as a group to come down on her side than yours."

  The entire situation was becoming more bizarre by the nan. "And have you finally remembered who and what you are to me, that you're now fully supportive of my position?"

  "Wouldn't go that far, but thought you at least deserved a warning. Have to go now. Our distinguished visitors demand a proper welcome."

  "Wait--" But Sharm was gone and ignored his attempt to re-contact him.

  With a grim urgency, Alerik faced the door to the governor's habitat and pressed his hand over the pad. He wasn't used to being ignored. He wasn't used to not having full control.

  He was taking his life back. Now.

  The habitat was cool and silent. It felt empty. Sharm had assured him Maegan would be here. He had surveillance on her due to her odd tendency to disappear, he said, and then he'd made some oblique reference to no tunnels at the governor's habitat. For some reason, he'd found that funny but hadn't bothered to enlighten Alerik.

  As he strode through the rooms, he saw his personal belongings, but there wasn't even a flicker of recognition of the rooms themselves.

  As he entered the last room--the largest bedchamber--he was beginning to think she had evaded Sharm's surveillance and was gone.

  But there she was. Sprawled across the sleeping platform in untidy sleep.

  The urgency in him died an abrupt death, and a peculiar anticipation took its place. He approached the sleeping platform slowly. This was his mate. He had been inside her body, touched her, made love to her.

  Even if his mind couldn't dredge up the memory, shouldn't his body know?

  She lay on her stomach, her arms and legs flung in every direction. She wore a pale green body suit that molded to the deep valley of her spine and hugged the beautiful curves of her bottom. She was too thin. He could see the protrusion of bones where there should have been more padding.

  She was still using the slieking nutro tablets.

  Where had that thought come from? And why? There wasn't a single other memory that accompanied it. His sense of frustration was interesting though, because he recognized it was connected to the thought. He had cared what this woman ate?

  Her hair had come loose from its tight binding at her nape and flowed across her back in silk-fine strands. A thick lock was draped across her cheek and her slender hand, which cradled her face. He bent to brush it aside.

  At first contact, a jolt of electricity whipped through his body. Every nerve came to life with an almost painful intensity. She muttered in her sleep and shifted her face. On the hand that had cradled her face, a sapphire band glowed around the base of three fingers.

  Another jolt attacked him. His chosen mate.

  He stepped back from the sleeping platform.

  What, by the fires of Crillac, was he going to do?

  Chapter 28

  Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising

  Pallas Five

  The gods of the Mariltar Nation still didn't have an answer for him many nans later, but his parents and Maegan's certainly did. The discussion bouncing around the great room of the governor's habitat was vigorous and loud. While they argued details, they were all in agreement about one thing. The Match Key could not be disputed. Even his mother, of all people, who'd had no say in her choice of mate because of the Match Key, had apparently come to this conclusion as well.

  Alerik glanced across the room at the one person who hadn't yet weighed in.

  Morgon Trion.

  The man had suffered the same treatment he had at the hands of the sha-priestess, but his memory loss was random. Alerik couldn't remember meeting him.

  Morgon sat relaxed in a chair
, his hands steepled under his chin, his face expressionless. There was no doubt, though, he was intently focused on the conversation.

  The other subject of the discussion, besides himself, was still asleep.

  Or maybe she wasn't. There was movement in his peripheral vision. Maegan came into view. She no longer wore the body suit, for which he was grateful, but was dressed in a too-conservative, pale gray, knee-length tunic over leggings of the same color. Her hair was bound tightly back from her face.

  He felt a peculiar singe of irritation. He wanted her to leave it loose.

  Her spectacular mother stood almost directly in front of Maegan with her back to her daughter. Melissa's hair was dressed in colorful fabric and metal twists, and she wore a flowing rainbow gown that hugged a still amazing figure.

  Curious, the contrast between the two women. Did Maegan go to extreme lengths with conservative dress in rebellion against her mother's showiness? He felt he had gained some important insight, but wasn't sure what it really meant yet.

  He watched her take in the scene in the room, knew the exact moment when she noticed him. Even at this distance, he could tell she tensed. But her gaze moved on, as if he was irrelevant, and settled on Morgon. Her whole face lit up.

  His heart cramped.

  She stepped forward. Her father noticed her first and immediately went to her to draw her into the group. She greeted his parents politely and, as soon as she could, extricated herself and went to Morgon. Once again, Alerik felt an odd biting pain in his chest as he watched a thus far unemotional Morgon enfold his niece lovingly in his arms.

  Then suddenly everyone's attention was on him, and for the briefest of nans, and one of the very few times in his life, he didn't know how to react.

  The breach was unwittingly filled by Maegan. "Alerik," she said from the shelter of her uncle's side, "I didn't know you would be released this soon from the clinic."

  "He wasn't released." His father's tone was stiff with disapproval. "He checked himself out and he needs to go back."

  "Morgon?" Maegan turned to her uncle, her body language screaming concern. "You too?"

  And for the third time, Alerik's heart cramped. She was more distressed about Morgon's condition than her mate's? Where was the promise of the Match Key and why, by all the burning starpits in the universe, did he care? This morning he had just wanted to be done with this bizarre arrangement.

  "No, leela," Morgon reassured her. "I am healed, though I may always have some memory gaps. Time alone will answer that question."

  To his peers, he said, "They must talk."

  There was a general chorus of agreement from the others. Alerik bore the stern silence of his father's warning gaze, accepted his mother's kiss and heard her murmur, "Do the right thing, my son."

  But his attention was focused on his mate and Morgon. He saw Morgon say something in Maegan's ear, saw her squeeze her eyes shut and give a brief nod. Above all, it was the gaze Morgon turned on him that gave him pause, more than any of the words that had been said on the subject. It battered against the barrier of his certainty and tore at his shield of confidence.

  The room cleared.

  He was alone with his mate.

  * * * *

  "Be true to your heart." Morgon's words, the words of the wisest man she had ever known, reverberated in Maegan's skull. She sank into the chair he had vacated. The problem was she wasn't sure she knew her heart anymore.

  Oh, she knew that Alerik had claimed a piece of it--a large piece of it--that no one else would ever have. But her mind was telling her it wasn't enough.

  It might have been.

  When Alerik held her in his arms and showed her through fiery passion and gentle touch that he had feelings for her, it might have been enough to follow him anywhere and try to be the mate he deserved.

  She simply couldn't deal with this man with the cold eyes who had no memory of those times and showed no inclination to recreate them. This man was a purely political creature, raised to follow and execute the beliefs and traditions of his own race first, then to integrate them with those of a multi-nation coalition.

  And that, to her way of thinking, was where the gross contradictions came in. The architects of the post-conflict Vision had expected massive compromise from a diverse group of people. Wary of losing their national identities completely, the leaders of the nine nations had been slow to give compromises, even with interracial marriage partnerships at the highest levels.

  Morgon's Janas Corporation, with its young multi-nation staff, demonstrated far more successful integration than the efforts of the Coalition Council.

  Alerik's large body appeared in front of her. She couldn't look in his face and focused just below his chin instead.

  "The quorum failed," he said bluntly.

  "I know," she whispered. "Sharm told me he wouldn't support it." A peculiar feeling was writhing through her veins, part elation, part sadness. She couldn't figure it out.

  "None of them did." Alerik sounded almost angry. "Which makes me wonder, wife, what you haven't told me."

  She snapped her head up. "Would you have listened and cared?"

  The glacial expression in his eyes made her shudder.

  "I have no memory of you, but why wouldn't I have listened? I entered into a marriage partnership with you. It was dictated by the Match Key, granted, but the Match Key has never failed. We must have made some emotional connection, yet you made it sound like there was none."

  His face could have been chiseled from granite, and his eyes had narrowed to piercing slivers. "Why is that I wonder?" His hand shot out to clamp around her chin as she would have turned her head to hide her guilt. "Don't look away!

  "I do believe my quorum, much as I disagreed with them this morning, was right after all. It seems we have some work to do."

  "I told you this morning," she said desperately, "I'm not the right mate for you. You incarcerated me for treason! I cannot, I won't go to Magnilium with you."

  Alerik's eyebrow shot up. He released her chin. "Interesting statements all, if a little hard to follow how they're all connected. But they're a starting point. At one time, Maegan, I must have believed without question you were the right mate for me. You will help me get back to that point. Understand this. If you don't for whatever unfathomable reason, others will."

  Maegan gritted her teeth. "You should never have married me. Does it not matter that I've operated in an illegal network? You're the one who called it treasonous. Why would you, a Mariltar heir, want a mate who is clearly so unsuitable?"

  "Those are interesting and noteworthy questions, yet despite your self-confessed unsuitability, your parents and my core team clearly approve of the part--"

  "They approve of the Match Key, which should have been abandoned as an obsolete, archaic convention long ago," Maegan snapped.

  "Perhaps." He reached for her.

  Too late, she realized his intent. She couldn't even get in a kick, before he pulled her tight against his body. He grasped her nape and lowered his head. His breath was warm on her cheek, and then his mouth settled over hers.

  She was trapped, unable to make the slightest movement to get away. Held by bonds that weren't physical in nature, as the passion she thought never to feel again exploded and seared her blood.

  When the pressure of his mouth eased and his arms loosened, she could only clutch at him weakly for support.

  "That," he said, his voice rough and uneven, "is why this partnership won't be dissolved."

  Chapter 29

  Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising

  Pallas Five

  The MagnaStar was two hanans past its scheduled departure time. Alerik had been warned--thoroughly. Yet despite what he thought had been sufficient precautions, his mate had still gone missing.

  Corenna and Drakal, assigned to make sure she was at the vessel well in advance of departure, didn't know where she was.

  His parents and hers, waiting aboard the MagnaStar, didn't have a slie
king clue.

  Pallas Five's dock recorded no unauthorized departure. Pallas Four's dock had no record of an unauthorized arrival.

  The captain of the MagnaStar had long since taken the shuttle back to his vessel to readjust his voyage plan. He had no choice but to wait. His vessel was chartered to bring the Mariltar party and the Coalition Council's newest junior member to Magnilium. They could hardly leave without Alerik Mariltar's mate.

  Alerik couldn't help himself. He began to pace in tight circles on the dock, which lay baking in the hot mid-day sun of Pallas Five. He glanced at Sharm and scowled. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

  Perched on a pylon in the shade, Sharm shrugged. "It was fun watching you go through this the first time. It's even more fun the second time."

  Alerik's already sour mood worsened. "What in blazing starpits is that supposed to mean?"

  "She turns you upside down and inside out, my friend. She's that guilty pleasure you know you should resist but can't. Which is exactly why you're still bonded to her and relearning all her complexities. This time around, you still haven't figured out that ordering her to do something isn't the most intelligent move."

  Alerik skidded to a halt, fists planted on his hips. "She's my mate," he shouted, completely out of patience. "She goes where I go. We had an agreement."

  "An agreement?" Sharm straightened up. "What sort of agreement?"

  Alerik paused as he recalled that difficult negotiation and his frustration at not being clear within himself as to what exactly the stakes were. "She agreed to three rotations minimum on Magnilium."

  "That satisfies your goal. Partially. What's in it for her?"

  "She's my mate," Alerik shouted again. Unbelievable. His shredded patience was scattering to the winds, and he couldn't seem to gather it no matter how hard he tried.

  "I think everyone knows that." The female voice dripped disdain.

  Alerik pivoted on his heels. His missing wife, with Morgon at her heels, marched past him without a glance. Her hair, for once not confined in a tight knot at her nape, bobbed in perky defiance in a single sleek tail against her back.