gaian consortium 06 - zhore deception

by Pope, Christine

  As Trinity approached the entrance, the doors slid open. At first she thought the place was deserted, and began to let out a breath of relief. Then she spotted a robed figure sitting quietly on one of the soft-cushioned chairs, and almost stopped short. No, wait — she couldn’t act surprised. How was she supposed to act? She couldn’t smile, obviously. The Zhore had a formal greeting that Gabriel had taught her — “your presence honors me” — but that seemed a little much for a chance meeting with someone in a train station.

  She settled for a quiet nod at the Zhore, and, to her relief, the Zhore nodded back but didn’t speak. Trinity walked as calmly as she could to a chair near the door, then lowered herself into it.

  Her first encounter with one of the aliens, and it looked as if she’d survived it.

  That was only the first hurdle, though. Still, she couldn’t help feeling somewhat cheered as the train slid into the station a few minutes later, and the other Zhore got up and followed her quietly into the closest car. Inside, it was furnished in soothing shades of soft gray-blue and tan, and the seat was even more comfortable than the one she’d been sitting on back in the waiting area.

  Clearly, the Zhore didn’t have to worry about anyone vandalizing their train cars or their public spaces. Trinity gazed out the window and watched the dark landscape flash by. Odd how there could be miles and miles of open country like this. In one of her briefing sessions, Gabriel had told her that the best estimate the Consortium had for the population of Zhoraan was around thirty million. So strange, when the greater Southwest area back on Gaia had twice that many people living there.

  No population pressure driving the Zhore out toward the stars. No, they had the exact opposite problem. Trinity shifted uneasily in her seat and thought of the Zhore sitting a few seats away from her. From the alien’s height, she’d guessed it must be male, but she couldn’t know for certain. And what did he — or she — look like under those robes? Trinity had only seen that one specimen, so she had no idea how much variation there was in the Zhores’ features and overall appearance.

  She’d never know for certain, of course. Even if she did get close enough to one Zhore male to be intimate with him, she would see only that one. They never revealed their faces to anyone except their immediate families and their bonded mates, and, perhaps, a few very close friends.

  Trinity doubted she’d be here long enough to make any friends at all, let alone close ones.

  The train ride only took half an hour. After once again consulting the navigation app on her handheld, she got off at the indicated station, then made her way down the street. It was quite late by then, with only a few of the hooded aliens on the sidewalks around her. Well, not sidewalks exactly, not as she knew them, but open areas planted with a low sort of ground cover that was cushiony underfoot. It felt good, especially since she had more than a kilometer to go to reach her destination.

  Eventually, the little dot on the app turned green, and she knew she had arrived at the building where Gabriel’s team had procured an apartment for her. It was fairly tall for a Zhore structure, maybe thirty stories or more.

  Unlike any apartment building she’d ever lived in, there was no external security. She passed through a set of glass doors and into a lobby area with walls of some sort of polished stone and a large reflecting pool in the center, with flowering shrubs growing in planters all around it. After a lifetime of living in dingy flats, Trinity thought the place appeared almost impossibly clean and perfect.

  But she knew she couldn’t stand there and stare, as much as she might have liked to. Her apartment was on the sixteenth floor, so she selected that button from the control panel inside the glass-walled lift.

  It rose smoothly, climbing up an open shaft that had some sort of trailing vines hanging down on all sides, except the one wall where the elevator car was actually attached. Yes, she’d been told that the Zhore were lovers of nature and must have it around them at all times, but until she’d now seen it for herself, she hadn’t really comprehended the scope of that love.

  The elevator made a soft chiming sound when it reached her floor. Trinity got out and stopped, looking around in some confusion. She’d been expecting the standard hallway with doors to the various apartments opening off it, but there was nothing like that here. Only a small lobby area, with the ubiquitous planters, and a single door in the wall opposite the elevator.

  Since she didn’t know what else to do, she took her handheld and put it up against the screen on the control panel next to the door. Another soft chime, and the door swung inward.

  And then she was in — well, she knew it must be her apartment, since it was the code on her handheld that had opened the door, but the place was so huge it must take up the entire floor. And here she’d thought the Zhore must be packed in the building, since it had so many stories. But no, it was simply that each apartment apparently took up a single floor. There weren’t hundreds of the aliens living here, but thirty at the very most.

  She realized her mouth had dropped open, and so she shut it. As she moved into the main living area, lights came on overhead, triggered by her presence. Soft lights, nothing intrusive, but enough so she could see the polished stone floor underfoot, the furniture in more gentle shades of sand and beige, the color provided by the flowering vegetation that grew in planters along the walls and in containers on top of the tables. And was that a waterfall cascading down one wall in the dining area?

  Yes, it was. All right, really a wall fountain, flowing over what looked like polished slate or the Zhore equivalent. The kitchen had a refrigeration unit and dish sanitizer and convective cooktop. Everything sleek and polished, looking like something from a holo set, too perfect to be real. Actually, the whole place seemed like the sort of apartment where a very important Consortium official might live, not a lowly admin.

  Then again, the Zhore didn’t seem to consider anyone lowly. In their minds, everyone deserved to live in a place this lovely.

  Trinity went from room to room, marveling at everything. The bedroom alone was bigger than the dumpy little apartment she’d called home when she lived in Barstow, and was far more elegant.

  In silence, she hung up the few garments she’d brought with her, then went into the dressing area. A large mirror covered one wall, although she had to wonder what the Zhore needed with mirrors, when they hid their faces from each other and wore the same thing day in and day out.

  Then she undid the silvery clasp that held her own cloak shut and deliberately set it down on the dressing table. Slowly, she pulled off the robe and hung it from a hook on the wall. For a long time she stood there, surveying her alien face in the mirror. Right then she was bone-tired, after that jarring exit from the spaceship that had brought her here, and all the walking that came afterward. That was one good thing about the Zhore skin that covered her own, though; she couldn’t see any shadows under her eyes, any trace of weariness at all, except possibly in the droop of her mouth. It was still so odd to see herself looking this way, to have to consciously search for the contours of the face she remembered, shrouded under that dark, glimmering skin.

  At last she let out a breath. “You’ve survived so far. Now go to bed.

  “Tomorrow is the really hard part.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Zhandar felt it first as a faint stirring along the edges of his consciousness, like a warm breeze blowing in after a long, cold winter. He’d been playing with garden layouts on his computer, moving the modular sections around, attempting to find a design that would be the most aesthetically pleasing while at the same time providing the maximum oxygen and food production. His mind had been distracted, though, drifting. The past few nights, he hadn’t been sleeping very well. It could have simply been that he was driving himself harder and harder these days, staying later here at work, even though there was no true reason for him to do so. Well, there was a reason, even if he didn’t care to admit what it actually was.

  He was just so very tired of g
oing home to an empty house.

  Now, though…something drifted over him, then pulled at him. He felt it, sensing the need, the longing, awaken in him, a heat he’d never thought he’d experience again.

  Someone in the building was sayara.

  His first impulse was to get up and hurry out of his office, to see if he could find this miracle in female form before she disappeared out of his life. But then he realized the sensation was getting stronger.

  She was coming toward him.

  Heart racing, he forced himself to stay seated behind his desk. A moment later, Nizhal, one of the junior designers on his team, paused in the doorway and said, “Zhandar? Your new assistant is here.”

  He stepped out of the way so that a slight hooded female could move forward. Her voice was low, soft as she spoke.“I am sorry I’m late. I am not yet familiar with the transit here in Torzhaan.”

  Late? As if he cared for that. It was enough that she was here now. His blood surged in his veins, but he schooled himself to calm. She was here in a professional capacity. Yes, his whole body was singing to him of her compatibility. However, he still didn’t know if her soul answered his.

  And he did allow himself just the slightest flicker toward her, to see if he could pick up on anything she might be feeling. Her barriers were very good, though. That was desirable — no one wanted a partner who broadcast everything she was feeling — but at the same time he wished he could get just the smallest hint of what her reaction to him was as well. Generally, if one felt the sayara pull toward another, then that person was experiencing the same thing…but not always. There were rare occasions when it was not reciprocated.

  If that turned out to be the case now, after everything he’d already suffered….

  “It is quite all right,” he assured her, glad that he sounded calm enough, as if she hadn’t just touched him to his very core by her presence. “Zhanna, is it?”

  She nodded.

  He went on, “While our schedule is quite full right now, nothing on it is particularly pressing. Come, let me show you where you will be working.”

  Nizhal took that as a sign to melt away, leaving Zhanna standing near the open door. Zhandar got up from his chair and went to join her. This close, her presence was almost unbearable — thrills worked their way down all his nerve endings, and his heart sped up. He wanted to take her by the hand and pull her to him, push down the hood that concealed her face, undo the clasp at her throat.

  Control yourself, he thought then, making that inner voice as stern as he possibly could. The last thing you want is to frighten her.

  Of course, if she was also experiencing a pull toward him, then it would not be fear that she felt.

  He could see no sign of any reciprocity from her, however. She followed him in silence to the office next to his, and waited quietly while he pushed the button to open the door. Since she showed no signs of moving, was obviously waiting for him to go in first, he stepped into the office. Voice as casual as he could make it, he said, “Here is your workstation. You’ll find the yearly schedules already loaded into your computer, as well as the design libraries and plant catalogues we work with. Do you have much experience with horticulture?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” she replied. “But I learn quickly.”

  That response made even more heat ripple through him. He told himself he was being ridiculous, that she was speaking of something else entirely, and yet it was so hard for him to focus on anything except the low, sweet tones of her voice. Did her face match that voice? Her frame, even muffled by the robes, seemed slight, almost fragile. Unlike Elzhair, who had been quite tall, this young woman barely reached his shoulder.

  “Excellent,” he responded, hoping that he hadn’t hesitated too long before replying. “I think you will find the work here quite pleasant. You will need to coordinate my schedule with that of the other divisions involved in our projects — supply, and botanical, and a few others — and set meetings. You’ll also be accompanying me to work sites to keep notes and provide your own insights. We’re a team here, Zhanna, and I believe everyone on it has something valuable to contribute.”

  She nodded then, but for the first time he noted some hesitation in her manner, as if she wasn’t quite sure of her own value. It bothered Zhandar, and not merely because she was sayara. All of his people were taught to believe in their own strengths, and address their weaknesses. Everyone was valuable. Everyone had something to contribute.

  “Where were you before this, Zhanna?” he inquired. It had been a polite question, nothing more, but she still seemed to startle, then recover herself, saying,

  “Oh, I was born in Morzhaan Province. I actually had no real thought of leaving, but then.” She hesitated then. When she went on, her voice was small and still. “I suppose you have heard of the incident in Alizhaar.”

  Everyone on Zhoraan had heard of it. In that maritime province on the other side of the world, a terrible earthquake and resulting tidal wave had flattened half the small city of Alizhaar.

  “I lost my family,” Zhanna said. “My parents, but then also most of my relatives on both sides. I survived only because I had gone inland that day, running errands for my mother. Afterward…afterward, there didn’t seem to be much reason to stay.”

  His heart ached for her. Yes, he had lost Elzhair, but he was not entirely alone in this world, even if he often chose to think so. Both his parents were still alive, in their homestead some forty kilometers outside Torzhaan, and his sister Alizha as well. She had been more fortunate than many of her generation, and had a child of her own, a daughter.

  But Zhanna…no wonder she questioned her place in the world. She had lost everything, and yet had somehow mustered the strength to start over in a new place.

  “I am so very sorry,” he said, and her shoulders lifted.

  “Thank you. Now, though, I just want to get to work. Keeping busy is the best way to forget, I’ve found.”

  How could he argue with that, when he’d been driving himself to exhaustion lately in the hope that if he just worked long enough, hard enough, he might begin to forget the hole in his world, the one that had once been filled with Elzhair?

  “Of course,” he replied. “Well, if you will go to your computer, we can look at what we have lined up for this week….”

  * * *

  Trinity had known this was going to be difficult. But she hadn’t realized exactly how difficult until she stood in the doorway of Zhandar’s office and felt the strength of his presence wash over her. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before…a tide of heat, of warmth, of…she couldn’t even explain what she’d felt to herself. Not exactly.

  All she knew was that she wanted him. It was a very odd sort of lust, since she hadn’t seen his face, knew he was an alien, and it didn’t matter. Hearing his voice was enough. Watching the grace of his movements as he rose from his chair and walked toward her, dark robes flowing away from the broad shoulders.

  Somehow she’d managed to remain calm and act as if nothing was wrong. Yes, her mission was to be with Zhandar — and her body was telling her right then how much she wanted to fulfill that mission — but above even that, she had to be inconspicuous. Running up to him and pulling him to her approximately thirty seconds after they’d just met didn’t exactly qualify as keeping a low profile.

  So she’d followed him into her office, listened to his warm, rich voice as he explained what her duties would be. She’d even dutifully recited the details of her back story as laid out by Gabriel Brant when he’d briefed her on her new identity. And Zhandar seemed to accept it.

  Then again, why wouldn’t he? He wasn’t expecting his new assistant to be lying to him, and Trinity was exerting all her effort in keeping those mental walls she’d built as strong and impregnable as they possibly could be. She’d thought it would be hard to merely hide the truth of her identity from him. What she hadn’t counted on was having to mask these new and unwanted feelings as well.

 
; But he didn’t seem to have noticed anything, and after an awkward few more moments as he showed her where to find certain files on her computer, he mercifully left, saying he’d let her explore a bit, but to ask any questions if she came across something she didn’t recognize or understand. Thank God the Zhore had borrowed their technology so heavily from the Eridanis, which meant it was more or less recognizable to her as the sort of thing common throughout the galaxy. Yes, the symbols scrolling across that screen were Zhoraani and not Galactic Standard, but she found if she didn’t make a conscious effort at reading the words they formed, and instead allowed them to more or less flow right into her brain, she could get along just fine.

  No, it didn’t seem as if the technical aspects of her new job were going to give her any real difficulty. The real problem was the man sitting in the office next to hers.

  What problem? she asked herself. This is what you came here for. Give it a few days so you can gracefully ease into it, then do the deed and get out. If he’s half as attracted to you as you are to him, then the whole thing is that much easier, isn’t it?

  Well, that sounded simple on the surface, but she wasn’t sure it would really work that way. For one thing, just because she’d been seized by the kind of attraction that made it hard to think straight didn’t mean Zhandar was experiencing the same thing. Was this normal? Was this almost overwhelming compulsion to be with someone what made the Zhore mate for life? And if that was the case, how in the world was she, a human, experiencing it? Trinity couldn’t begin to guess, because it wasn’t something a human being was ever supposed to experience.

  Then again, she possessed abilities that most regular humans didn’t. Maybe she was picking up on what Zhandar was feeling for her, and her talents…powers…whatever you wanted to call them…were amplifying his attraction.

  She wanted to think that wasn’t possible, but there had been that girl on Lathvin IV. Reading between the lines of what Gabriel Brant had told her, Trinity had the impression that a Zhore couldn’t reproduce without feeling a special connection, even though human beings weren’t technically wired to require perfect compatibility when it came to choosing a mate. That young colonist — Annika Jespers — had possessed some quality that had drawn her Zhore lover to her. Which meant that maybe she, Trinity Knox, possessed the same thing, or at least something that was attracting Zhandar.