by Cari Z.
The driver shut the door to the shuttle once they were all inside and then got into his seat. The air was a little drier inside, making it easier to breathe. Jason could barely make out any of the scenery through the darkly tinted windows as they sped forward.
“There isn’t much to see this far out,” Giselle said, following his gaze. “Mostly tunnels and trees. It will take a while to make it into the city, and once we get there, the sky will be obscured by buildings. Not that you see the sky very often.” She smiled. “This is a very damp climate, and rain falls several times a day. That’s another reason for the tunnels. They’re more like walkways in the city itself, but you’re never very far from cover.”
“How long does it take to get to the Council House?” Jason asked.
“Another half an hour or so….” As she spoke the shuttle began to slow down. “But there’s no traffic out here. Kylarr,” she called toward the front, “what’s happening?”
“It’s a security stop, Ambassador.”
She and Ferran exchanged concerned glances. “When did this begin?”
“Five days ago.”
Giselle frowned with irritation. “And what happened five days ago to warrant it?” she asked as the car pulled to a stop in front of a black barricade. It was too dim outside to make out any details, but Jason could see dark-cloaked Perels emerge from behind it to frame the front of the shuttle.
“I don’t know, Ambassador,” Kylarr replied just before he killed the engine.
Giselle didn’t say anything else, her face as smooth as her voice as their driver came around and opened the wide shuttle door.
One of the other Perels stepped forward, identical to his companions in that moment, with everything but his face obscured by the long, black garment he wore. “Welcome back, Ambassador.” He spoke the Federation’s common language, but his accent was much stronger than Ferran’s.
“Thank you.” Her voice was emotionless—very different from her usual, informal manner. “What is the reason for this interruption?”
“My apologies.” The Perel inclined his head, but he didn’t lower his eyes. They roved through the car until they fell on Jason, and there they stayed. “Berenze’s borders have had a number of security breaches over the past week. We have to check every incoming vehicle to ensure that no one who isn’t supposed to be here enters.”
“My party and I are expected at the Council House.”
“Forgive me, Ambassador, but unless everyone in your party is a marked member of your personal entourage—the Matriarch Grenn’s son excluded,” he said as his eyes flickered toward Ferran, “—they will have to stay with us until their presence can be validated by one of the matriarchs. There is only one such person in this shuttle that I can see.”
“You would drag one of the matriarchs out of her house for something this minor?” She gestured toward Jason. “I know you’re referring to him, but he’s the consort of Matriarch Grenn’s son and a member of her House.”
“So far, his status has not been validated,” the Perel insisted firmly. “Their union must be officially validated before he can enter the city.”
“Jason’s credentials are spotless, and beyond that, I am his legal guardian, his mother on Perelan.” Giselle smiled slightly when her questioner flinched. “Would you care to see the paperwork?”
“Yes, Ambassador.”
Penelope was on her feet in an instant, handing over a tablet with the proper documentation pulled up on it. The Perel studied it intently, but a few minutes later he handed it back and bowed, this time lowering his eyes. “My apologies, Ambassador. Of course, your son is free to accompany you.”
“I’m so pleased to hear that.” She took the tablet back and reclined against the seat. “What is your name, son?”
The Perel flushed faintly, the pink just visible at his cheekbones. “Marren of Srell’s House, Ambassador.”
“How interesting.” Giselle didn’t smile this time, and from the look on all of the Perels’ faces, she wasn’t disguising her emotions very well. Marren took a step back.
“Thank you for your patience, Ambassador.”
Giselle didn’t say anything, just nodded briefly before looking away. Kylarr shut the door, and in moments they were on their way again.
Penelope lifted the window that would soundproof the back of the shuttle. As soon as it was closed, Giselle exhaled loudly. “The Solitarians are moving fast.”
“I thought my mother had eased their concerns,” Ferran said. His hand had found Jason’s and was gripping it hard, searching for comfort that Jason blindly gave.
Solitarians… there had been a lecture about them, but he didn’t remember many of the details. “Those are the isolationists?” Jason asked, forcing his brain to work.
“Rabid isolationists,” Giselle said. “They were against any contact with aliens at all in the beginning. In fact, two people in the first group of humans that landed here were killed by members of Solitarians. They were against opening up their planet for trade, against exchanges of information, against allowing Perels to go into space, against accepting our help with their medical deficiencies… the list goes on and on. They’re in the minority, barely, and we’re slowly wearing down their objections when it comes to sharing our cultures. Suffice it to say that I was anticipating their strong resistance to your presence here and your marriage to Ferran. You would never have been granted permission to be here if it wasn’t for Grenn’s firm and very vocal support.”
“And yet, they’re setting up road blocks,” Penelope added, her normal smooth demeanor edging toward displeasure. “There could be other barriers in the way before we get to the Council House. Perhaps you should call ahead, and see if Matriarch Grenn can provide us with an escort.”
“No. This is the time for a show of strength,” Giselle replied, smacking her hand firmly on her thigh. “This is the moment to show any doubters that we won’t allow ourselves to be intimidated and we can handle anything they care to throw at us, because we’ve planned for it. That is our stance, and we won’t compromise on that. We can’t allow ourselves to compromise on our own independence or mobility. Got it?”
They all nodded. “Mind if I check your blood pressure?” Dori asked glibly when Giselle’s glare came around to him. “Because I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Chapter Five
THE REST of the ride into Berenze was tense but uneventful. Eventually, the dark of trees gave way to subterranean tunnels, with luminescent stripes along their walls and ceilings. It was bioluminescence, Jason remembered, from one of many industrial fungi the Perels manufactured in their area. The fungi weren’t included on the very short list of products they were willing to trade with outsiders, though. Most trade was restricted to purely decorative items.
It was raining hard as the shuttle pulled into a covered parking place in the plaza outside of the Council House. They hadn’t seen anyone on their way in—or at least, Jason hadn’t. It was too dark and too damp, and what wasn’t obscured by the rain was shrouded by a mist that seemed to cling to everything it touched. Subconsciously, Jason wanted to shy away from it, to avoid drawing it into his lungs, which were already suffering from the sour-thickness of the air. As his eyes adjusted to the open air, he suddenly realized there were people out there, moving through the mist, and whenever he caught a flash of reflected light, he knew their eyes were on him. There were a lot of flashes in the twilight.
“Up the steps,” Giselle said, indicating the dark stairs leading to a wide, inverted V-shaped building. The stairs weren’t stone or concrete or any other building material Jason had ever encountered before, and he bounced on the balls of his feet a little bit as they climbed.
Two more Perels met them at the top of the stairs, outside of a wide, arching door. They bowed but didn’t say anything, and Giselle inclined her head and strode right past them like she owned the place. The hall widened as they went farthe
r inside. The walls were inlaid with subtle designs that reminded Jason of a tessellation, drawn out and stretched like a wave. It almost seemed to move as he looked at it, like a hologram.
“That’s incredible,” Jason murmured to Ferran, unable to tear his gaze away from the walls as they walked farther into the Council House.
“This building has been the seat of our matriarchs’ power for generations,” Ferran said. “Some of our greatest artists dedicated years of their lives to making this place beautiful and worthy of them.”
“It’s certainly striking,” Jason agreed.
Penelope shot a look at them that clearly said, Quiet, please, but Dori seemed to appreciate the conversation. “Hell of a place,” he said expansively, as though he were conducting a tour. “Wait until you see the Council chamber. Ferran did some of the paintings in there, and some of the detail work on his mother’s chair.”
“Really?” Jason saw Ferran’s blush and smiled at him.
“Gentlemen,” Penelope interrupted softly, “the Council chamber is just ahead. Try to maintain a sense of decorum.”
“I’m head to toe full of decorum,” Dori whispered mischievously, but a moment later they reached the Council chamber, and all thought of conversation simply ceased.
Jason looked from wall to wall with a sense of wonder. He felt the kind of breath-stealing awe that he so rarely experienced these days—as though he were in the presence of something unbelievably glorious. The last time he’d seen anything like this, he had been visiting the Cathedral of the Winds with his parents as a small boy.
The room itself wasn’t that large—no more than a few hundred square yards. A long table sat near the far wall, with seven chairs spaced out around it. A skylight set in the very top of the curving ceiling didn’t let much light in. The light came from the walls, and, like the work lining the hallway, they glowed with shapes that drew the eye with their complexity, capturing and holding attention. Different sections were done very differently, clearly by a variety of artists. An area near the ceiling, done in variegated blues, greens, and golds, seemed to get larger and higher the longer Jason looked at it, almost mesmerizing in its beauty.
He forced himself to stop playing tourist and instead pay attention to the group they were approaching. Finally, he was going to get a glimpse of the vaunted ruling matriarchs of Perelan, the undisputed leaders of the entire Perel civilization.
Honestly, at first glance, they weren’t very intimidating. He carefully kept his mind calm and his impressions discreet, remembering that the females were stronger empaths than the males.
Jason had seen females of the species several times before, but the ones who managed the space station above Perelan had to be infertile or unwed, because they were much more slender than these individuals, and a heavy weight was a sign of prosperity and childbearing. These females were half as wide as they were tall, their quills shorter and thicker than any male’s. The quills were tipped with dark points, much like Ferran’s, and their eyes were just as wide and bright. Rich, brightly colored, and completely shapeless robes covered their heavy bodies, and each wore a thick stole around her neck.
Seven matriarchs sat in front of them, and four wore stoles in various welcoming shades of green. The stoles of the other three were a rusty, metallic red, which Jason supposed was a sign of disapproval.
Giselle stopped about five feet out from the table, where a single chair faced it. She sat with a regal flourish, crossing her hands in her lap. The rest of her entourage stayed standing.
“Welcome back, Ambassador.” The Perel in the center did the speaking. She was a little heavier than the others and perhaps a little shorter, and her voice was strong and deep. She spoke in the guttural Perel language, but Jason’s translator was making more sense now, and he could parse out her words fairly clearly.
“Thank you.” Giselle replied in the Perel language, doing a decent job getting the hard consonants out.
“I see you brought me a new son.”
“I’ve brought us a new son, Matriarch Grenn.” The satisfaction in her voice was clear.
“Did you now?” The Perel’s amber eyes seemed to grow a little brighter, and they focused more firmly on Jason. Every other pair of eyes at that table did too. Jason had never felt the intensity of so much focus before in his life. “He agreed to it, then.”
“He did.”
“Good. Welcome, Jason Kim Howards, consort of my son, Ferran. This makes you my son as well. Welcome to your new home.”
“Thank you.”
“He should not speak here,” one of the other matriarchs growled. “Not in that tongue.”
Ferran stiffened slightly, keeping his arm touching Jason’s at all times. There was something protective about his posture, and Jason gave him a small, reassuring nudge.
“He doesn’t know any better yet,” Grenn replied.
“Your son should have taught him!”
“This is not the point of this meeting, Matriarchs.” Giselle went back to using the Federation language—rather pointedly, Jason thought. “This is an introduction. Despite our differences, we can all remain civil.”
“On our world, our language is civil.”
“But we are patient,” Grenn said with finality. “Although we did expect you sooner.”
“We were delayed on the road.”
The matriarch paused for a moment before responding. “Ah.”
“Yes.”
“What cultural gifts does your son bring?” another of the green-stoled matriarchs asked. “In what ways will he enhance our understanding of each other?”
“My son brings gifts of movement and grace,” Giselle said smoothly. “Gifts of focus and mental aptitude.” Suitably broad statements that could encompass the things Jason and his new matriarch had ended up negotiating between them, which they had yet to finalize. “Gifts that he will be happy to share with his new people after his presence here has been validated.”
Matriarch Grenn turned her gaze on her son. “This is who you’ve chosen, Ferran?”
Ferran stepped forward a little. “This is my consort, Jason, Mother.”
“You are legally married in the eyes of his people?”
“Yes.”
“Then in their eyes, you are part of him. In our eyes, he is part of you.” She looked to the left and then the right. “The majority validates your marriage to each other, and the majority carries this council. Our people look forward to witnessing your rhezan.” She smiled beatifically at Jason and Ferran. “Your union is validated.”
“For the space of one year,” the red-stoled matriarch who had spoken up earlier added. “At the end of that time you shall be reevaluated, both of you. If you fail in your tasks, or if you cannot handle the trials of an interspecies union, the contract will be terminated.”
“I thought that was supposed to be a decision made by Jason and Ferran,” Giselle said.
“We can discuss that later.” Grenn was as serene as a martyr or a distant god. “This audience is ended. I want to greet my sons.”
Giselle stood up. “I’ll be back tomorrow, then. Bright and early.” She turned and took one of Jason’s hands and one of Ferran’s and placed them together. “This is the start,” she whispered, and then she walked out of the chamber, taking Dori and Penelope with her. Dori threw them a wink before he was out of sight.
It was a surprisingly wrenching experience to watch them leave, but Jason kept his grip on Ferran’s hand.
It’s going to be all right. You have him. You’re here together. That’s all that matters.
Grenn started to stand up, but a frenzy of low growls and grunts from the red-stoled matriarchs, too fast for Jason’s translator to handle, interrupted her. He caught a word here and there, but he didn’t need an exact translation to know she wasn’t saying anything he wanted to hear. Ferran’s grip on his hand grew tighter and tighter, but Jason didn’t even consider pulling away. His husband needed him to be strong right now.
&n
bsp; After a minute or so of this, Grenn held up a hand, effectively putting the debate on hold. “Take Jason to our home,” she instructed Ferran slowly, so that Jason could keep up. “I’ll speak with you there.”
“Yes, Mother.” Ferran turned and walked quickly out of the Council chamber, almost pulling Jason along with him. They slowed down a little once they reached the halls, thankfully, and Ferran’s grip relaxed.
“I take it they aren’t all happy,” Jason murmured as they walked toward the exit.
“No,” Ferran whispered back. “But we can’t talk about it here.”
“I know.”
Jason had never been the type who found silence oppressive, so he didn’t mind letting the conversation lapse. Outside, the sky was almost black, but there was more illumination on the street than ever thanks to the phosphorescent fungi coating the buildings and street. It was a strange effect, almost like looking at a photograph in negative. He could make out the shapes of people as well, wearing dark, rain-resistant cloaks and staring at the two of them with shining eyes.
The rain was falling so hard it almost hurt, and Jason’s clothes soaked through fast. “Ferran….”
“Our shuttle is coming.”
“We could wait inside.”
“No.” Ferran shook his head, an edge of hurt in his voice. “Not in there.” Instead, he moved behind Jason and clasped his hands over Jason’s chest, resting his chin on his husband’s shoulder and staring out into the night. It didn’t help much with the rain, but it did make Jason feel warmer. He laid his hands over Ferran’s and forced himself to breathe the watery air in. It was markedly easier for him to handle the acidity now. The edges of his eyes still stung and burned, but it was bearable.
A few minutes later, a small shuttle pulled to a stop in front of the Council House. Ferran went toward it instantly. Jason was surprised by how few vehicles were moving on the streets, honestly, and he was glad that this one seemed to be for them. He opened the shuttle door himself, brushing off the driver’s attempt to help, and settled them into the back.