“And if I don’t talk to him?”
Nalzhir didn’t answer at first, but instead seemed to shift so he could look past Trinity and out into the bright sunlit garden on the balcony. “I fear that would not be wise. You see, we should attempt to seem cooperative in the beginning, even if we all know that we have no intention of handing you over to them.”
Trinity could feel herself relax at those words. Not that she particularly wanted to be locked up in this apartment for the rest of her life, but that prospect was still infinitely preferable to being wrapped up in a bow and sent back to Gabriel Brant and his cohorts.
“Ah,” said Nalzhir. “So you truly don’t wish to return to your home world. I wasn’t sure.”
Trinity sighed. “I must have been broadcasting that pretty loudly.”
“Loudly enough.” He paused, then went on, “This becomes more difficult because, while you are a citizen of the Consortium, you are carrying the child of a Zhore. Galactic law — the law that the Galactic Council agreed on decades ago — states that such a child is automatically granted dual citizenship. And because the child you carry is a citizen of this world as well as yours, it limits what the Consortium can or cannot compel you to do.”
That notion hadn’t even occurred to her. Then again, while it sounded fine and good to follow the dictates of such a law, she knew her own government couldn’t care less about such niceties. Still, it must give her a little bit of protection. A little was better than none of all. She swallowed, then asked, “Where would I have to speak with him?”
“In the Bureau’s office on Kelzhar. That is still technically Zhore territory, although we do lease out space in the settlement to off-world interests. The presence of off-worlders there is common, and so such a meeting should not draw any particular attention.”
Yes, she knew that moon, the place where Gabriel had dragged her to threaten her in person. “There’s a café, run by two Gaians named Franklin Watts and Dale Luna. They’re some of Brant’s operatives.”
Nalzhir shifted on the couch, although Trinity couldn’t tell whether or not her words had surprised him. Even after being here on Zhoraan for almost two months, she was still trying to get used to reading people’s reactions by their subtle body movements, rather than the far easier means of examining their expressions or the waves of emotions most of them didn’t even know they were transmitting. But the Zhores’ feelings were just as concealed as their faces, so she didn’t even have that fallback.
He said, “We’ve long had our suspicions about those two, although so far we have not been able to find anything concrete enough to support an active investigation. So thank you for that intelligence. In fact, I think it might be helpful for all of us if you could make a record of everything this Gabriel Brant has told you, and everything you have seen while in his company.”
Clearly, Nalzhir thought Trinity was firmly on the Zhore side. She hadn’t really stopped to think about it. The one thing she knew was that she most definitely didn’t want to side with the Gaians, not after what they’d done to her. So where did that leave her?
On her own side, apparently. She was okay with that. After everything she’d already been through in her life, she was sort of used to it.
But because Nalzhir had resources she didn’t, and because she would have liked nothing more than to see Gabriel Brant cash in all his bad karma points, she just nodded and said, “Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Of course no one asked why “Zhanna” had not returned to work in the office. It was not the Zhore way to poke and pry. Zhandar had no doubt that speculation was running rampant behind his back, but he couldn’t do much about that. He could have lied and said his erstwhile assistant had gone on retreat, but that was not the Zhore way, either. So he was left to come in to work each day and take care of the tasks that needed attending to, and to say very little to any of his staff, save for when he absolutely had to.
As excruciating as the situation might be, it was a veritable relaxation chamber compared to going home each night and knowing that Trinity was so close by, and yet might as well be on one of Zhoraan’s moons for all that he could reach out and touch her. That was his own doing, not hers; from time to time, he could sense echoes of her hurt, of her need, but he could not find it within himself to forgive her. He understood why she had done what she had done, at least in the beginning. However, he couldn’t see why she hadn’t told him the truth once she realized what she felt for him. Fear of reprisal from her masters might have factored into it, but he thought there was more to it than that. It was as if she’d feared that he would reject her, or….
“Hello, Zhandar.”
Leizha’s voice.
He startled at the sound of it, then reached out to touch one of the controls for his 3-D modeling device, trying to make it seem as if that little unexpected jump had been nothing more than him moving to touch the screen. Foolish, really. Leizha would see right through a stratagem like that. She knew him too well.
“Good afternoon, Leizha,” he replied formally. “Did you enjoy your retreat?”
“Very much so. But I was told that your new assistant had to leave, and so — ”
And so of course you came back, trying to see if I would be more amenable to your proposition this time. Zhandar had no way of knowing how much Leizha had actually heard, but he knew he would have to walk softly here and try not to give her any more information than was strictly necessary.
“Yes, I fear she was too homesick for the province where she was born, and so decided to return.”
That was the first lie he had ever told. He wondered if he had learned something of the practice from Trinity.
“Ah, that is unfortunate.” Leizha paused then, watching as he fiddled with his model of a retrofit of the gardens at the municipal art museum, only a few blocks away, adding a waterfall here and moving a planter there. “I wished to know if you had found a replacement for her yet?”
“No,” he said shortly. “I assume you’ve come here because you wish to take up your position again?”
“It makes the most sense, does it not? You would not have to train someone new, and I have learned some…perspective…during my time away.”
Did that mean she’d given up her pursuit of him? That would make working with her much easier, if still a little awkward. After all, he knew what she looked like without the robes, had participated in an intimacy that usually only bonded partners and close family members shared. But he could put that aside if he had to. Indeed, it was difficult to recall any particular details of her appearance. When he tried, he only saw Trinity — that is, Trinity in her guise as Zhanna. Even that memory was beginning to be erased now, overwritten by images of the human Trinity, with her lustrous golden-brown hair and creamy skin.
“So what do you think?”
How easy it was for him to drift off into thoughts of Trinity. He really should be putting her out of his mind. Well, not completely, since she was carrying his child, and sooner rather than later they’d have to work out some sort of arrangement, but…. He blinked, bringing himself back to the here and now. Leizha stood there, staring at him, a faint aura of impatience surrounding her.
“I think that would work out very well,” he told her. “In fact, I have an appointment to go look at a new site in less than an hour. Can you accompany me, or would you rather begin in the morning?”
“I can come with you,” she replied quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly.
But he had made his decision, and he would have to abide by it. The work was too much for him to manage without an assistant, and yet he hadn’t found the will or the energy to find someone to replace Trinity. That Leizha should show up like this, giving him an easy solution to his predicament, meant he would no longer have to worry about juggling two people’s workloads.
And if Leizha wasn’t willing to let things go, attempted to renew her suit….
Well, he’d wor
ry about it when the time came. He had quite enough to occupy him now, including the ongoing problem of Trinity Knox.
* * *
“Should we tell Zhandar what we’re doing?” Trinity asked. The streets of Torzhaan flowed past as a Zhore man whose name she hadn’t been given drove her and Nalzhir toward the outskirts of town. Apparently, they were headed to a government shuttle pad, where they would take a ship to the second moon and the meeting with Gabriel Brant.
“I saw no reason to worry him unnecessarily,” Nalzhir replied. “We will be up and back within the space of a few hours, and you will be returned to your apartment before he even gets home.”
She supposed that made sense. After all, if Zhandar really cared about her or what she was doing, he would have attempted to make contact sometime within the last week. Instead, she’d been left severely alone.
So much for this sayara bond that they keep going on about, she thought wearily. Everything outside the car window was green and growing and vibrant, and she wondered how much Zhandar had been involved in planning it. Not the whole city, surely — he was too young to have done all of this — but he pushed himself hard, a lot harder than some self-proclaimed workaholics she’d known back on Gaia.
And she could mock sayara all she wanted, but deep down she knew she was in denial. She ached for Zhandar every night when she lay down in her lonely bed. Once or twice she’d even considered trying to creep out under Rinzha’s nose, then slip onto the balcony and shimmy herself up one of the trellises to Zhandar’s apartment.
It might have worked…or she could have broken her neck. In the end, she’d decided that she couldn’t take that kind of risk, not when she was carrying his child.
But the ache never went away. She feared it never would.
“If you think that’s best,” she told Nalzhir, and turned once again to look out the window. Really, she just wanted this over with. The thought of facing Gabriel Brant had her stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t even blame that on being pregnant, because so far she hadn’t suffered any kind of symptoms. It was awfully early yet, though.
Nalzhir seemed to sense that she didn’t feel inclined to talk, so they rode in silence the rest of the way to the shuttle pad. It was really more like a private space port, with ten landing pads and a low building that seemed to house some offices and a small waiting room. Once they got out of the car, he guided her toward a small, sleek shuttle waiting on one of those pads, then indicated that she should take any seat she liked. She sat in the middle of the cabin, near one of the windows, while he settled himself directly across the aisle. A few minutes after that, the ship began to vibrate slightly, and she realized the atmospheric engines had just been turned on.
It was a short flight, not quite a half-hour. The moon base was unfamiliar to her, since she’d been knocked out before being brought here the last time. But Trinity still recognized the graceful curves and arches of Zhore architecture, even in this airless environment.
The shuttle landed in an open bay and connected its hatch to a corridor that led somewhere into the bowels of the base. A private corridor, it seemed; she and Nalzhir were the only ones traversing it at the moment, although she was under the impression that the base was actually a fairly busy hub. Because she had left her apartment and gone out in public, she once again wore the heavy hooded robes. They were a thin disguise, though, and she knew it. Under those robes and the gloves, she was all too recognizably human.
Nalzhir guided her down another corridor. Almost at once, a group of five more Zhore joined them, tall, silent, in the ubiquitous hooded cloaks. Since her companion didn’t appear surprised by their presence, Trinity guessed that he’d been in communication with them somehow and had instructed them to meet up here, out of sight. Although she would have felt a bit better if even one of them had spoken, she was still glad of their presence. As they’d walked, she’d begun to get the sinking feeling that Nalzhir intended to meet with Gabriel with absolutely no backup, which she thought was an extraordinarily bad idea. But it looked like they were going to have some kind of muscle after all, even though she couldn’t tell whether the guards were armed or not. They could be hiding anything short of a poleax under those robes.
At last they reached a door, where they emerged from the cramped hallway into a sort of small open plaza, where plants grew around a graceful little fountain in the center. It was hard to believe they were on a moon base, rather than somewhere back in Torzhaan. But then Trinity looked up and saw the domed ceiling high overhead, its smooth metal surface showing plainly that they were most definitely not back planet-side. Still, she appreciated that the Zhore had brought their love of growing things even here to this barren moon.
“This way,” Nalzhir murmured, pointing to a door in a one-level building on the opposite side of the courtyard.
Two of the guards moved ahead of them so they could be the first inside, while the others brought up the rear. Trinity clenched her gloved hands inside the dangling sleeves of her robes and wished she’d had the courage to tell the Bureau agent no when he’d asked her to come on this insane mission. No, actually, that would have been the cowardly thing. They were all playing at roles here, Gabriel Brant most of all, but she’d already done enough wrong. She wouldn’t compound her past sins by refusing to help out where she could.
They moved along yet another hallway, although this one had been painted a soft taupe color, and abstract paintings hung on the walls. It felt like the kind of temporary office space that high-ranking executives might lease when they needed to conduct business somewhere away from their home base. And then they were going into a conference room, and Gabriel Brant was standing there, Blake Chu at his side. Both of them wore high-collared business suits and looked the very epitome of Gaian style. Well, Gabriel did, anyway. Blake still sported his ridiculous glasses and brush haircut, giving him the appearance of a nerdy computer hacker forced to dress up for a relative’s wedding.
The brief amusement that thought caused disappeared rapidly, though, because Trinity could feel Gabriel Brant’s charcoal-colored eyes boring into her, as if attempting to see through the thick hood that obscured her face. She forced herself to stand quietly as Nalzhir moved past the guards and spoke.
“We are here, as you requested.”
“And I see you brought your basketball team with you.”
Nalzhir’s head cocked to one side. “I fear I don’t recognize the reference, Mr. Brant. But yes, we are within our rights to have an escort. That will not hinder our talks, will it?”
A negligent wave of the hand. “No, of course not. Do sit down.” He gestured toward a conference table off to one side, set up with four chairs around it.
Trinity didn’t much like the look of that. No matter how they arranged themselves, that meant she’d have to be sitting across from or next to either Gabriel or Blake. She knew better than to protest, though, and so she waited quietly while Gabriel sat at the head of the table and Nalzhir at the foot. Holding back a sigh, she settled herself in the chair to Nalzhir’s right.
Once that was done, a mousy-looking woman came into the conference room with water for everyone, pouring an equal amount in each glass before retiring to the sitting area on the other side of the space. There, she picked up a tablet and appeared engrossed in whatever she was reading on its screen.
Trinity didn’t know if the woman was pretending to be Gabriel’s secretary or assistant, or whether she been rented along with the meeting space where they had gathered. She supposed it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that he sat only a few feet away from her, close enough to reach out and grab her by the arm. Not that he would do anything so overtly threatening. She didn’t know what he was plotting, but she doubted it was anything that simple.
“So, Mr. Brant,” Nalzhir began. “We are here on your request. As you can see, Ms. Knox is quite well, and here by her own choosing. Certainly nothing that should cause a diplomatic incident.”
Gabriel lifted his
glass of water and took a long drink. Pure theater, of course. Trinity wished she could grab that glass of water and throw it in his face. Then again, she doubted even that would mess up his hair. He had enough pomade in there for three or four men.
Then he said, “Well, I’d like to believe that, Nalzhir, except that I really can’t see that Ms. Knox is well. In fact, I can’t even say for sure whether that is Ms. Knox under all those robes.”
“If you’re suggesting — ”
“What I’m suggesting is that Ms. Knox isn’t a Zhore, so there’s no reason for her to be wandering around here dressed like a mad monk, is there?”
She should have known he would force the issue. Nalzhir hadn’t told her whether he’d informed Brant that she’d been restored to her normal appearance, but that wasn’t why she hesitated now. Although she’d cursed the robes more than once for being bulky and heavy and in the way whenever she stopped thinking about how to manage them, they also offered protection. She didn’t much like the thought of being exposed to Gabriel’s gaze. But she also knew he’d continue to press the issue, so there was no point in protesting.
“No, I suppose there isn’t, Mr. Brant,” she said, then reached up and pushed back the hood, letting it drop to her shoulders so her hair could fall free.
A small pause. Then he said, “Ah.”
That was it. “Ah.” His eyes caught hers for a second, and she felt a chill go down her back. And then he was looking away, returning his attention to Nalzhir. “Yes, she does appear to be in perfect health. As for being here of her own volition…well, I suppose we can let her tell us about that.”
Voice cool, she said, “I’m here because I wanted to make it very clear that I am not being held against my will on Zhoraan. Therefore, there is no reason for the Consortium to interfere with my affairs. I believe that Consortium citizens still have the right to travel about the galaxy as they choose, don’t they?”
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