Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  He laughed at that, his humor restored. “Maybe they will. If it comes to that, don’t tell Meyso. He’ll ask for training too.”

  I couldn’t stop my attendant from arranging my bath for me. I’d planned on a quick shower, but he had the deep basin filled, perfumed, and ready to go. After such a hard workout, it looked too wonderful to pass up – plus I would have felt bad to refuse it after he’d gone to the trouble. I had a decadent soak.

  I did manage to bypass the gown hung up for me to wear. I tossed on my own but perfectly nice blouse and skirt ensemble. I’ll dress up tomorrow when Jaon’s parents come for a visit. And yes, I’m wigging out about that. Hopefully they’ll be as kind as Betra’s parent clan.

  After I’d gotten cleaned up and dressed, I got to spend time with Aslada. He told me about some legislation he has planned, why it was important to him, and how he needed to win critics to his side. We brainstormed ideas for vids that would promote his views. I was glad he didn’t prefer to do a lot of what I call ‘talking head’ presentations where he’s on vid and droning on forever. We had some pretty dynamic concepts and even dramatizations. I have to say, it felt great to be in a working frame of mind. I’m looking forward to working on our first project, pushing for a Matara Complex on this continent.

  Meyso ran off to the clinic for a couple of hours to go over plans with his team about my mother’s surgery. Mom’s doing well as they take her out of heavy stasis. The surgery is happening in a couple of days. I don’t know if I’m more relieved to get it over with or anxious about the unknowns looming before me.

  In more intimate matters, I am ready to explode as far as the sexual games this clan is playing with me. At one point, Jaon pushed me in a corner and had my clothes half off, mauling me so that I begged to be fucked. He teased horribly, taking his cocks out and rubbing them against my slit. No penetration. He made me come hard as hell and covered my mound with his pleasure. It was incredible, but damn it, I want to have sex for real. The worst part is, I think they enjoy making me so frustrated. They’re into controlling me. That kind of power must be intoxicating to have, because they use each opportunity to enjoy it. I feel like the walking personification of a libido.

  I hate it and love it all at once. Somehow, the building anticipation is enthralling, and I almost hate to see it end. But I REALLY want the whole party right now. I wish I knew when we’ll make love. How amazing is it going to be? These three days have been a long bout of foreplay.

  Anrel lacks for nothing and is delighted with her life here. The staff, particularly her manny Snoy, dote on her. Her formula and cereal and pureed foods are made from scratch by the head chef himself. The clan adores her. They ordered amazing one-of-a-kind toys, handmade on Joshada, which showed up this morning. The four of us spent hours playing with the baby. Even Jaon was on the floor with Anrel, spurring her to laugh as he pushed her around on a wooden ronka on wheels.

  We’re all fitting in quite nicely with each other. So far, so good.

  October 19

  I met Jaon’s parent clan today. Clan Islan showed up earlier than expected…as in two hours early. I was in the middle of my training when they made their entrance. Jaon was in the gym, watching Toleca spar with me when a servant came hurrying in to whisper in his ear.

  “What?” Jaon dropped a grav-bell and stared at the flustered attendant.

  His startled exclamation claimed my attention, and Toleca smacked my arm smartly with his rod. “Eyes on your opponent, Matara,” he reminded me. “Nothing else matters when someone wants you dead.”

  Hissing in pain, I concentrated on Mr. Scary. Then a bunch of people came into the room, talking loudly and making a fuss.

  Toleca snarled, “Stand down,” and turned to glare at the interruption.

  I watched as a woman separated herself from a knot of unfamiliar Kalquorians and Clan Aslada’s harried staff to approach me and Toleca. She glared as if we’d committed some act to personally affront her, though I’d never seen the woman before in my life.

  “What is this? What is going on here?” she demanded in an imperious tone.

  Jaon hurried forward and bowed. “Hello, my mother. What a surprise to welcome you before you were expected.”

  His words could have been abrupt, but he spoke in a respectful, even indulgent tone, taking any sting out of them.

  “I woke early and saw no reason to delay coming. I’ll greet you after you’ve showered, Jaon. In the meanwhile, reassure me this is not the woman you’re courting.” She stared at me without bothering to hide her dismay. I was a sweaty mess in my shorts and tank top.

  A man with the unmistakable demeanor of a Nobek came forward as well. “Surely she’s not training in self-defense when she has you to protect her?” he thundered at Jaon, who reddened. “And by another Nobek? Explain this.”

  That’s how I met Jaon’s parents. Nice, right?

  I never did hear Jaon give the reasons for me being in training. My attendant rushed to me and bundled me off in a hurry. Meanwhile, Aslada also came into the gym and loudly greeted Clan Islan, distracting them as I exited. His hale-and-well-met politician’s voice boomed as my personal servant Imdiko Iro and I trotted down the hall to my suite.

  Iro shook his head and gave me a twisted smile as we went. “So much for first impressions, both for you and them,” he muttered. “Why Matara Tezila couldn’t wait for her son and you to come to her instead of bursting in, I can’t imagine. She’s always been a bit eccentric,” he added in an undertone.

  “In what way?” We reached my suite and shut the door. Iro locked it for good measure.

  “If a notion hits her, she does it. Such as finding out what Jaon’s potential Matara would be doing in his gym. Let me start your bath running so you can clean up.”

  “Better make it a shower. I’d rather not have that Nobek of hers knocking my door down because she demands it.”

  I was joking, but Iro’s expression suggested it might be a situation to consider seriously. “You’re right. Just a moment and I’ll have it ready for you.”

  By the time I was cleaned up and in my gorgeous spring-green gown, Iro had arranged to transform me into parent-worthy material. I did my makeup while he fussed with my hair.

  “I guess I haven’t been properly warned about Jaon’s parents.” I slapped on powder. “Aslada made this lunch sound casual.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want you scared half to death,” Iro said. “Not that Nobek Jaon’s parents are awful. It’s just Matara Tezila can be unpredictable.”

  “Such as showing up for lunch hours early.”

  “She can be condescending one second and personable the next. We look forward to her visits because when she’s feeling gregarious, she tells the best jokes and insists on everyone having fun. You have to not take the cold moods personally when she’s in them.”

  I could live with that. “What about the rest? Jaon’s Nobek father acted ticked off that I was training.”

  “Nobek Floeb is old-school in how he views the duties of the breeds. Mataras are never to worry their pretty heads about being safe. Nobeks must defend their clans to the death. Dramoks cannot be questioned. Imdikos attend to every need.” Iro’s eyes twinkled. “He’ll give Nobek Jaon hell for letting you train, mark my words.”

  “How will Jaon deal with it?” I wondered. He’d been against me training too.

  “He’ll remind his father he’s his own man and challenge him to a fight if he doesn’t shut up about it.”

  “He will?” I was upset I’d caused a rift between father and son.

  “Dramok Islan will demand they stop acting like a pair of brainless animals, Dramok Aslada will order drinks and say something amusing and charming, and Floeb and Jaon will head-butt to show how tough they are before laughing it off. Don’t worry; they’ll argue and resolve those arguments in that manner at least half a dozen times before the day is out.”

  I worked on getting my eyeshadow right. “What about the others?”

&nb
sp; “Dramok Islan is what you might call blustery. He’s very much lord and master of his clan, except where Matara Tezila is concerned. He often tries to order her around, but she ignores him and he ignores her ignoring him. He’s loud and demanding to the point of rudeness, but it’s an act. He can’t bear a woman to cry and loses his mind doing whatever is required to make her happy. Give him a smile for any reason – hell, for no reason – and he’ll melt. I can’t wait to see his reaction to Anrel.”

  I was almost ready, needing a dash of lipstick to finish myself off. Iro was putting the last pin into place, giving my hair all the regal elegance a debutant could hope for. “And the Imdiko?”

  “Imdiko Lahdin is the serene member of the bunch. He used to be a Temple of Life priest, and he carries that calm demeanor with him. Often, he chooses to sit back and watch the mayhem. It only requires a word from him to quiet Islan and Floeb, or to stop Tezila so she can consider what she’s doing. As long as no one’s well-being is impacted, he lets them carry on as they will.”

  My hair, makeup, and briefing were done. I called for Anrel to be brought to me. With Manny Snoy and Iro in tow, we went to the garden where everyone waited for us.

  Introduction, round two.

  This encounter went much better. Tezila rushed to me with a gleeful, “Here you are! I’d scold you for making us wait so long, but such a lovely girl is worth waiting for. Oh yes, we were early too, weren’t we? All is forgiven. Oh, here’s the baby!”

  Tezila isn’t pretty, not in a traditional sense. Her nose is bulbous and a bit off-center. Her brow is heavy, and her chin juts out quite a bit. Yet when she’s happy, she shines with the brightness of a playful child. She has the thickest hair I’ve spotted on anyone, flowing in gorgeous waves to her knees. Her energy is nonstop, almost frenzied. As the afternoon wore on, I saw flashes of arrogance, especially toward the staff. As Iro said, when she was merry, she made everyone around her merry too. She’s got wonderful attributes.

  Anrel loved her. She loved Dramok Islan too, who turned into a sloppy pile of mush over her, just as Iro said he would. The bearded clan leader, his fat nose an even larger version of Tezila’s, prompted me to think of illustrations of fairy tale dwarves. A giant dwarf, of course. He fussed over me, his booming, demanding tone going gentle when he spoke to us gals. He asked about my mother, consoling me over and over about how she would be restored to health, how I shouldn’t fret, how Meyso would fix “the poor, sweet lady” as he called her. Then he’d turn to Meyso and thunder, “You’d better not mess this operation up!”

  Meyso gravely nodded and promised to do his best. When Islan glanced elsewhere, he’d duck his head and give in to the grin that insisted on being expressed.

  As is usual for Nobeks, Floeb had little to say. The thin-faced warrior with many scars behaved respectfully towards me and attempted stilted but polite conversation. He indulged in several comments to Jaon for falling short enough in his duties that I was being trained to fight. When that happened, Jaon growled, Islan yelled at them, Aslada shoved drinks in their hands, they butted heads like a couple of angry rams, then toasted and laughed at each other. Just as I’d been told they would.

  Imdiko Lahdin was indeed the calm center of Storm Islan. I found him relaxing to be around with his peaceful demeanor. He was fascinated with the beliefs of Earth’s religion. When the rowdier elements of his clan were too involved to interrupt us, we had fascinating conversations about those beliefs and the ones I had. Having talked with several Temple of Life priests, I felt comfortable with the discussion without fear of being judged.

  It was an insightful, if exhausting day. I appreciate Jaon’s parents for the most part, though if I’m honest, I prefer Betra’s. I hold their clan as the type I’d aspire to have. Too bad I can’t pick my in-laws as well as my clan.

  They’ve gone home now. Tomorrow, I get to focus on Mom as she goes through her operations. One thing is for sure; Clan Islan kept me distracted from worrying too much about that. I should thank them. I hope I can sleep tonight.

  October 20

  I’m sitting next to my mom. I barely recognize her. They shaved her head to do the procedures, so she’s bald as can be. She has multiple tubes running into her skull, draining stuff to keep her brain from swelling. Meanwhile, the medication she’s on post-surgery made her face balloon, so that’s kind of ironic. She looks terrible, and I have to keep reminding myself of Meyso’s assurances that the surgery is a success. He’s sure the tubes that make her look like a mad scientist’s experiment can come out before the day is through. Tomorrow, she’ll be allowed to wake up for the first time in months.

  Today is about waiting. I’ve spent these last few hours on the com as I sit with Mom. I spoke to Tep and shared every detail I could remember Meyso telling me. My former doctor was encouraging and expressed certainty that it was going well. I hate to sound as if I doubt Meyso, because I don’t. I wouldn’t have entrusted Mom with him if I wasn’t sure he’d do a good job. I still needed that boost from Tep.

  I talked to Feru too, because I can share with him all my stupid fears and he won’t tell me I’m an idiot for feeling them. He knows all the right stuff to say to remind me the world isn’t about to end. As is usual with him, he insisted I com him day or night, if I needed the support.

  With everyone else, I forced myself to sound upbeat. I don’t want to be pathetic, whiny Shalia, especially when I’ve been assured there’s nothing to worry about. Mom is closely monitored. All her readings are terrific. The surgery went without a hitch. Meyso’s pleased as punch, and all the orderlies and nurses keep asking me what kinds of foods and activities Mom will enjoy most once she can indulge in her New-and-Improved-Eve life.

  Candy and Katrina are ecstatic about Mom coming through with flying colors so far. They hope to throw her a party once she’s released from care. What sweethearts. I didn’t have the heart to tell them Mom despises social occasions with a passion. Who knows, maybe Mom will be more of a party kind of gal when it’s all said and done.

  I had to send a recorded com to my dads and Joelle since they’re so far out of frequency range. I ducked into the restroom to com Oses, Betra, and Clan Seot since Clan Aslada has stayed near me and Mom since she came out of surgery. I hated for anyone to feel weird or jealous.

  Everyone was encouraging, though no one was fooled by my enthusiastic report. The whole bunch saw through me.

  “Do you need us there?” Seot asked on behalf of Larten and Cifa. “Never mind how awkward it’ll be for the two clans who hope to win you. Your needs are more important than our discomfort. If you need the support, you’ll have it.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I insisted. “I failed to realize how Mom would look when she came out. As soon as she opens her eyes and starts cussing, I’ll be fine.”

  When I commed my favorite guys, Oses was stoic without being dismissive. “You’ll get through this, pet. If half the stories you’ve told me are true, Matara Eve is too tough to keep down for long. It’s frightening when someone you love suffers, but all is proceeding according to plan.”

  Betra added, “It’s natural to be anxious. Anyone would be over their mother in the same situation. One moment at a time.”

  I sighed. “Each second is a year. I think it’s been hours, then I realize only five minutes have gone by.”

  “I’m sorry we’re not with you to help you feel better. You’ll com us as soon any new developments happen?”

  “Absolutely.” I tried to stop the poor-me mantra going on in my head. “How is life treating you?”

  “Great.” I swear I could hear Betra’s smile. He sounded happy. “It’s quiet too. Word is the route to Earth is now well protected, so we shouldn’t have the same problems on this trip as we had the last time.”

  “Well, how nice for anyone who isn’t me.” I exaggerated the sarcasm so he’d laugh. “I should have gone on that trip.”

  “That’s what you get for evacuating promptly,” he teased.

  I kep
t the conversations quick so Clan Aslada wouldn’t clue in that I was talking to a bunch of other guys. It was kind of rude for me to talk to past lovers and possibly future when they were around, but I had promised to let everyone know how Mom was doing.

  I’m waiting to find that out myself. Anrel’s manny takes her out when she gets fussy and needs a nap, but otherwise, she stays with me. I talk to her about her grandmother and tell Mom everything Anrel does. Mom can’t hear me, but it’s important to do in case the surgery goes wrong and she doesn’t wake up. Okay, I’m well aware she’ll wake up, but this is screwing with my brain. I keep waiting for the worst to happen despite assurances to the contrary. I guess I was born to worry myself crazy.

  Clan Aslada is patient with me. They have stayed with me as I sit and wait for Mom to start living again. They have been wonderful, making sure I eat, insisting I go for a walk and get some air every few hours with the promise I’ll be called in if Mom so much as twitches, sharing stories and jokes to keep me from worrying. They are amazing. I am so lucky they showed up on my list of compatible clans. As soon as Mom is better, I have to express my gratitude. I owe these men big.