Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  Anyway, back to the vid production department. It’s big enough to accommodate a staff of about a dozen, along with edit suites, wall-sized monitors, computer graphics suites, and a virtual reality sound stage. None of which have been installed. Or selected and purchased. That’ll be up to me. I had to keep reminding myself of my department’s potential as I looked at that wide, empty swath of room. A couple of window vids, blank walls, and beige-colored floor greeted me on my arrival. Good night, I have a lot of work to get my department up and running.

  “Your office.” Cifa opened a door on the far side of the major area with a flourish. “This is the space from which you’ll rule your subjects.”

  Another empty, though smaller room. I was pleased to see it was large enough for me to install my own edit suite. I had no intention of just ordering people around. I wanted to join in with actual production when I could. “Where’s my throne, knave?” I joked.

  He grinned. “You have to order it, along with all else you need. I thought about putting the basics in place, but I want this to be yours. Build your kingdom as you see fit, my Matara. You’re in command.”

  Have there ever been more exciting or terrifying words? Besides, ‘Yes, I’ll join your clan’, that is. Ha!

  It turned out I won’t be able to bury myself in setting up my department right away, though. Cifa has bought air time for my first promotion for the company, the introduction of the small liner whose maiden voyage I went on – and bailed out of early.

  No matter. We’d recorded plenty of great footage. There was a small portable edit suite Cifa had brought so we could assemble a rough cut. I set it up in his office next to his desk since my real workspace isn’t furnished with even a chair. Our two stations formed an ‘L’, letting us work next to each other, which was nice.

  I brought up the digital recordings I’d shot and mused over the footage. I was assembling a rough version to help me think through the project. If I choose my edit suite in time, the finished, polished product will be finalized at Cifiler. If not, I’ll have to farm it out to the production company the cruise line has been using up to this point. Either way, after this promotion, the whole kit and caboodle will move in-house.

  I’d settled on the perfect hook for the campaign, a tagline I was sure Cifa would like. “‘Best of both worlds.’ It was a popular saying on Earth when two different things were combined. It applies to your wish to appeal to family and adventure seekers.”

  “Brilliant,” he agreed. “Let’s go to work on it.”

  I’d had the idea he might micro-manage the project, had readied myself to deal with it in a patient manner (his company, his rules), but that wasn’t the case. He seemed more interested in distracting me with naughty whispers and nuzzling my ear while I made notes on the vid. Now that I had gotten my head into the direction he’d wanted the promotion to go, Cifa was content to let me run with it. He offered input only when I asked for his opinion.

  Cifa had his own tasks to attend to. When he wasn’t diverted by snuggling with me or playing with Anrel on her activity mat on the floor nearby, he took coms, ran reports, sent out missives to his employees, and generally acted like a CEO. I could have been easily distracted by watching him operate. It was fascinating to see an Imdiko running the show of a big company. I said so.

  “That’s a big misconception about my breed, even among fellow Kalquorians.” he said. “The truth is, when we find our niche and achieve mastery over it, we’re as dominant as any Dramok. If Erom and I didn’t have Ila to arbitrate and occasionally punch us for being jerks, we would probably run competing companies. When our views are different, he and I don’t play nice.”

  “That’s why you concentrate on different departments?”

  “It saves a lot of arguments,” he laughed.

  Even with Cifa occasionally diverting me, I enjoyed having him nearby. I wish we could keep it like that. Unfortunately, I can’t operate an entire division from Cifa’s office, and Anrel and I sidetracked him too often.

  For the good of the company, I’ll have to go along with the separate workspace. It’s nice that it’s going so well. Maybe I won’t have to do therapy for long, not if more and more of these contented moments show up. When I let myself, I’m the happiest Matara on Kalquor.

  January 12

  Date night! Time for adult happy play. Not that I don’t enjoy having Anrel around, but we four grownups focus on her at our own expense. Besides, I’ve been running myself ragged with setting up the vid production department and hiring warm bodies at the job. I can’t turn it off when I’m home at night. I spend my evenings going over equipment specs and job applications.

  It’s gotten to the point where Seot asked me, “Are you really that busy, or are you trying to avoid us?”

  “You mean am I rejecting you before you reject me?” I thought about it. “I don’t think so, but Dr. Cafir told me to watch out for that behavior.”

  “Shalia is that busy,” Cifa sighed. “Don’t make her feel bad on top of creating a department from scratch, okay? It’s a big job, and I haven’t been able to help her much.”

  “I’ll do better,” I promised Seot. “I agree I’ve been too remote lately. I’m obsessed when it comes to new vid technology.”

  He wasn’t put out with me at all, only worried. This date night is all about reconnecting and putting my priorities back in order. I have to say, I’m excited to have alone time with my guys. I’m due a few hours of being neither Shalia-the-worker-bee nor Shalia-the-mom. Shalia-the-clanned-woman needs her fun.

  We dropped Anrel off with Candy, who was thrilled to have her. While we were there, more business came up. “Cifa, you don’t have an administrative-type opening on a ship, do you? Or waitressing or maid service? I don’t mind serving food or cleaning cabins.”

  We looked at her in surprise. “Is your allowance not enough?” Cifa asked. “I thought the government was doing well by the women in the lottery.”

  “I want to leave the lottery,” Candy said. “That means I have to be employed, or I can’t stay on Kalquor. I also can’t live on Rel with Stidmun, because it’s a military station.”

  “The military supplies so much to its people, they don’t have a lot of discretionary income to play with,” Larten agreed. “I’m not surprised you want to find a job rather than have Stidmun pay your bills.”

  Candy grimaced. “The expense of paying for my own living quarters, at the most basic level, would make it a major financial hardship on my Nobek. I have no intention of being a kept woman anyway.”

  Seot whistled. “You are that serious about being with one man.”

  She grinned at him. “One specific man.”

  Cifa, bless him, didn’t hesitate for an instant. “I’ll check with Personnel and see what they have open, along with the qualifications required. I’ll tell them that if any department will train a motivated applicant, it’ll make me happy.” He winked conspiratorially.

  Candy beamed with genuine gratitude. “You won’t regret it, Cifa. Thanks heaps.”

  She’s made her final decision. I hope it works out for her and the Stud Man.

  “You’re the best,” I told Cifa as we walked from the Matara Complex to the market area. “You deserve an extra special reward.”

  His adorable face lit up. “Oh, I’ll take that.”

  “I’m a pretty good guy too,” Larten said in a hopeful voice, earning laughter from the rest of us.

  We kept laughing for the rest of the night. I had a few twinges when I thought it was going too well, that it couldn’t possibly last, that I’d put my neck out with this relationship and it would soon be chopped off. Those instances were fleeting, and I was able to dismiss them fairly quickly.

  I did as my therapist had recommended. I stayed in the moment, glorying in being the center of my clan’s attention. Appreciating every little gesture they did for me. Noting dozens, if not hundreds, of kindnesses large and small. Reminding myself that I trust them—it’s only my insecu
rities jumping in the way.

  I’m becoming better at this. The fear is not as pronounced—I’m positive of that. I am exactly where I need to be, where I want to be, where Anrel and I deserve to be.

  January 13

  I’m not sure where to begin with today’s entry. I’m in shock one second, in tears the next. To say the last few hours have been a rollercoaster would be putting it lightly.

  Last night’s date ended with the expected sexual shenanigans it should have. We didn’t keep our fun and games to the sleeping room. We were on a mission to put our mark on every space of our home with the notable exception of Anrel’s nursery.

  Anrel. Oh sweet prophets, my precious baby. When I think

  No. I will not finish writing that. I will not finish thinking that thought. I refuse to do that to myself.

  Last night our clan exhausted itself with sex, as if we’d just invented it and had to try each permutation possible. We were barely able to move this morning when the com buzzed.

  “For you,” an uncharacteristically sluggish Larten mumbled as he handed my device to me. “It’s Candy.”

  Naturally, my first thought was of Anrel. I roused to ask my bestie if she was okay.

  “We’re great,” Candy assured me. “I’m sorry if I woke you, but I have to head out to the market in a few minutes. I’m taking Anrel with me. I didn’t want you to go to the complex and freak out if we’re not there.”

  “Thanks.” Since there was no emergency, I was already snuggling between Cifa and Seot in anticipation of catching a few more winks. “When should we come?”

  “Take your time. I’ve got no big plans.”

  “You’re the best,” I mumbled. “See you later.” Seconds later, I was out again, snoozing like it was Saturday morning.

  Less than an hour later, the com went off again. When Larten picked it up and switched it on, Candy’s hysterical yelling woke us all though he hadn’t put her on the speaker. I jumped up and lunged across Cifa to grab Larten.

  “Is it about Anrel? What’s happened?” I demanded.

  Larten waved at me to quiet down and concentrated on the voice on the other end of the line. “Matara, I can’t understand you.” When she kept screaming, he yelled, “Candy, calm down!”

  When she quieted, I believed his yelling had worked. It had not. Her com had been taken. Someone else spoke. My Nobek said, “This is Officer who?”

  All the breath left my body. In that second, every element was nauseatingly clear. I can remember each detail at that second. I recall the exact amount of pressure from Seot’s arms wrapping around me. I’ll never forget the look on Cifa’s face, the terror of his expression as he grabbed Larten’s arm, the barely-there whisper of, “Anrel?”

  And the way Larten froze, the utter stillness of that Nobek’s visage the instant before his fangs appeared and murderous rage filled every mote of his being. It was astounding that he could seem so savage and continue to speak like a sane being. “The baby has a tracker implanted on her, Officer. You can contact my Dramok’s company to find her.” He kept talking and listening, snatching up a pair of pants from the floor where they’d been dropped the night before.

  As clear as I am on that moment, my own voice screamed from miles distant. “She’s missing? Someone took her?”

  Seot released me with a thunderous shout. He swung around to the side table, where he’d left his personal com. He was on it and barking orders in Kalquorian, telling someone on the other end to connect him to the Emergency Tracking Division immediately.

  Cifa was also moving, blurring out the door and back in. He flung clothes at me. “Dress now.”

  I crawled to the foot of the sleeping mat, clutching a shirt and skirt to my chest, bawling at the top of my lungs. I struggled to put my clothes on and locate shoes, tears blurring my vision and slowing me down.

  All I could think was, my baby, my baby, my baby. Anrel couldn’t be gone.

  An awful certainty bloomed as Cifa tossed me unceremoniously on the bed so he could shove a pair of shoes on my feet. It shouldn’t be possible, not yet, but there was only one person who might be crazy enough to steal Anrel in broad daylight.

  “Nang. Damn the bastard, it must be Nang,” I blabbered. Terror made me frantic. “Larten, Nang took Anrel!”

  “We don’t know that, my love.” Fully dressed and off the com, he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. “He couldn’t have reached Kalquor yet. Even if he was able to get here straight from Earth, he wouldn’t have made it yet.”

  Larten was carrying me through the home, starting at a trot, then breaking into a run. We emerged in the shuttle bay. Before I knew it, I was in the cabin of the clan vessel, sitting on a bench with Cifa and Seot settling on either side of me. Larten was in the pilot’s seat, firing up the engine.

  Seot’s com went off. “Yes? Law enforcement’s moving in? Thank you. Com as soon as you hear further developments.” He turned to me. “They’ve got a lock on Anrel’s location. She’s in a home in the underground residential area, near the Matara Complex.”

  I could barely credit what he was saying to me. I was in a panic, continuing to imagine Nang, his handsome face twisted into a demented mask, grabbing Anrel and running off. I saw him holed up in a rounded-shell-shaped home, holding my baby hostage as police surrounded the building. Threatening her and demanding to see me.

  I surged to my feet and rushed to Larten’s side. “What did Candy say? What did she see?” I begged him.

  The underground’s landing pad grew large on the window vid. Larten’s movements were swift and sure as he zeroed in on a docking spot. “She saw nothing. She’d set Anrel down near the fountain to watch the fish. She turned to ask a busker a question, but she swears she was within grabbing distance of the baby. When she turned around, Anrel wasn’t there. It was so early that few people were around. No one the police spoke to so far saw what happened.”

  “Shalia, they know where she is,” Seot reminded me. “It’s going to be fine.”

  His tone wasn’t for my peace of mind, however. There was the sound of threat in it, as if he’d only spoken part of a statement: It’s going to be fine or I’ll kill someone.

  We were landing fast. Cifa came forward to make me sit in the copilot’s seat. He needn’t have worried. Despite the speed of our descent, Larten set us down as light as a feather.

  We raced for the hatch the moment we were down. As we rushed from the shuttle to the elevator contraption that would take us below the ground to the hollowed-out interior, the com on Cifa’s belt alerted. It signaled using the tone I’d programmed on my unit, however.

  “I must have grabbed yours by mistake,” my Imdiko grimaced.

  “Give it to me. Maybe it’s important.” I had an image of Nang holding Anrel and contacting me with demands that I go to him. I snatched the com from Cifa and glanced at the frequency long enough to verify it was not familiar. “Yes? Hello?”

  “Matara Shalia?”

  It was not Nang. It was a female and familiar. The speaker was crying, her sobs distorting her words and keeping me from identifying her. That, and the sound of Anrel wailing in the background.

  “Anrel? Where is she? Who are you?” I screamed into the com. I broke into a run toward the elevator building.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I want to give her back to you. I didn’t mean—please, don’t hate me. It was a mistake! An awful mistake!” She sobbed almost as loud as Anrel.

  I fought not to lose my mind and keep the guys at bay. All three were grabbing at my arm, at the com. “Who is this?” I shouted again.

  “Matara Hina. We’ve met a few times on the beach. Near the market. I walked with you a few days ago.”

  I froze at the entrance to the elevator. Matara Hina had taken Anrel? The polished, Kalquorian beauty who doted on her each occasion we’d run into her?

  “Hina? Is Anrel all right?” My voice had gone from shouting to small as I tried to grasp the unbelievable situation. I ha
rdly noticed Seot pushing me into the elevator.

  “She wants her mother. I thought—I don’t know what I was thinking. I saw her in the market and remembered my baby girl, and I just—I just—”

  She stopped, overcome by crying once more.

  “It’s a woman,” I overheard Larten saying. I looked to see him on his com. “Her name is Hina. My Matara is speaking to her.”

  I assumed he was talking to the authorities. My mind racing, I spoke to the crying woman on my line. “Hina, where are your clanmates?”