Desert World Rebirth

by Lyn Gala

  “It’s good to see this world rejoin the universe before I go,” Lilian said as she leaned against the doorway.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” Temar said.

  Lilian gave a soft laugh. “I might be known for getting my way, but if you talk to Shan, he’ll tell you that not even my powers will convince God to change the rules of mortality.”

  “I try to avoid the topic of God,” Temar said, the words slipping out before he could edit himself. Lilian looked at him curiously, but she remained silent. The silence dragged out into minutes, and Temar shifted uncomfortably. A tiny, old woman shouldn’t make him so uncomfortable. “He has his beliefs, and I’m fine with that. I just don’t share them,” Temar explained when it became clear that Lilian wasn’t planning to move on until her curiosity was sated. She gave a single nod of her head, and Temar felt like he had failed some test. He might respect Lilian, but he was supremely glad she wasn’t his mother. He wouldn’t have survived her quiet disappointment.

  The silence grew heavy, but Lilian didn’t seem to mind. Again, Temar shifted uncomfortably. When Temar had appeared in front of the council, Lilian had voted in favor of his slavery, just as Naite and Dee’eta, and Kevin had done. All these people insisted they owed him because they’d sentenced him to years of service to a man who had abused him. Temar figured Ben carried the blame for that, and maybe he carried a little of the blame himself because he’d screwed up and ended up in front of the council in the first place. However, these people he’d grown up admiring all blamed themselves for not checking on him or protecting him. He never knew how to feel around most of them. Naite made it a little easier by snapping at him about how the farm was run and distracting him from any discomfort; however, Lilian was harder to understand. She’d paid an outrageous fine to him in the form of a herd of goats, nearly forty meat cavies, crop seed, and an extra allotment of water, but she’d never said one word about his enslavement. By the time Lilian cleared her throat, Temar was on the edge of a panic. “His beliefs often lead him to make the right choice when others make easy choices,” she said quietly.

  “I know that.” Temar frowned, wondering where that had come from. He knew better than anyone just how good a heart Shan had.

  Lilian looked at him. “His choices are sometimes better than his execution.”

  Temar studied a stack of broken datapads. He didn’t have an answer for that. Sure, it was true. Naite had pointed that out loudly and colorfully more than once. On the other hand, Shan was his lover, and Temar trusted the man… trusted him absolutely. He didn’t want to have a conversation with Lilian Freeland about his lover’s faults.

  Lilian fell silent again, and Temar started mentally casting around for any safe topic to discuss. “I found the original economic and manufacturing charter.”

  “Shan said you were interested in finding what these people might want. An excellent plan.” The compliment surprised Temar.

  “Thank you. Shan is so busy trying to figure out where to have them land the shuttle and how to sort the equipment that I don’t think he has time to really think about the people we’re meeting.”

  “And I imagine that you’re a little more cautious about what people might want.”

  Temar sucked in a breath. He hadn’t really thought about why he was researching, but in that one line, Lilian had implied that Ben had taught him a caution… a paranoia… that Temar didn’t want to see in himself. He wanted to be the same person who had followed his sister, trusting her to understand the world better than he did. He wanted to think that, even though he knew that he would never follow her into George’s fields now. Looking back, he could hardly believe he’d been so naïve back then. Instead of spending too much time thinking about what Lilian had said, Temar focused on the facts he’d found.

  “They actually wanted a number of materials from Livre. Antimony trioxide is used by ships to put out fires, zirconium for weapons, lanthanum oxide for displays, and tantalum for medical and scientific equipment. Livre is sitting on enough rare elements that they’d pay a fortune to have all the sand of our deserts up in their ship.”

  “Which means they’ll be willing to fight for it,” Lilian mused.

  Temar didn’t answer, but he figured she was right.

  “I’m too old to have this conversation standing up,” Lilian said softly before she turned around and headed into the living areas. Shan was using the living room for sorting equipment, so she had to weave her way around piles to reach the couch. Sitting down, she rested a finger against her lips. Temar followed her, staying close to the exit. He considered leaving her, but dozens of workers were outside, placing markers the shuttle or airship would need to land. Shan had explained the scoop and skip two-ship system for off-planet flights, but Temar honestly didn’t understand it. He was used to glass that moved slowly, sluggishly. When you applied too much heat, the molten mass would start to run, the heavy drops bending toward gravity, but Temar honestly couldn’t wrap his mind around ships that flew fast enough to leave a planet. Physics had never been his favorite science.

  Shan came into the room, wiping his hands on his pants before he went to clasp her hands in greeting. “Lilian? When did you get here?”

  “I thought I would see how many people were helping. I see that you’re almost buried in assistance,” she said with some amusement.

  Temar watched them as Shan sat next to Lilian on the couch. He was much bigger than her, but he still sat far enough away that it was as if her personal space was much larger than her body.

  Shan smiled at her before turning his smile toward Temar. “We’re taking off tomorrow. I think everyone wants to have some part in this.”

  Lilian nodded. “And many have donated goods to send up.”

  Shan laughed. “Yes, but I’m not sure it counts as a donation when you hope to get fair market value for it on the other end.”

  “True.” Lilian gave a small laugh of her own, her eyes scanning the room until they found Temar. She watched him, her forefinger brushing over her lip. “People have a lot of hopes resting on this flight.”

  “Is that supposed to motivate us or terrify us?” Shan asked. Temar could see the dark shadows under his eyes. He had worked long, hard hours, with Naite being the only one to work harder. Hannal had come, setting up a kitchen to feed the workers, with most of the farms in Landing, Hope Valley, and Zhang all sending what food they could, along with workers. Long rows of radio markers lined the sands north of the relay, where a low set of rocky hills created a rough break where the larger barcan dunes rarely drifted; the people from space insisted that their craft could land on sand as long as the sand didn’t then bury the ship. Even Cyla had taken to running regular hauler loads between the three valleys and the relay. Temar wasn’t sure why that surprised him, because Cyla always had been a hard worker; however, he still felt some shock at her willingness to drive long, hard hours for people who were too tired to offer much thanks. It was as if the entire planet had been turned on its side in the course of a week.

  “I am simply offering up my view of reality,” Lilian said.

  “Uh-huh.” Shan didn’t sound particularly convinced.

  “You’re growing suspicious in your old age, Shan.”

  “I’m not old.”

  “But you are starting to grow suspicious,” Lilian pointed out. “I think I’m grateful for a little suspicion in this mess.” She leaned back and shook her head. “Then again, you were the only one suspicious of slavery, so perhaps the emotion is more a part of you than I’ve given you credit for.”

  “You’re worried,” Temar said from the doorway. He came closer, stopping on the far side of a number of broken vacuum seals.

  “I am,” Lilian agreed. “We have much that they want. I came here hoping that one of you would make me feel better about sending you up there like this without any help.”

  “You think we’re in danger,” Temar said, his guts knotting at the thought. He knew what helplessness felt like,
and he hated the idea of heading back into a situation where he might face it again.

  “Do you think it’s that bad?” Shan wiped his hands against his pants over and over. “I know it’s going to be a hard negotiation, but do you think it’s actually dangerous?” Shan looked over toward Temar, and Temar worked hard to keep his face neutral.

  For a time, Lilian sat with her wrinkled finger tapping against her cheek, her expression thoughtful. “I think if it is that bad, we’re all in a difficult situation,” Lilian finally answered. “What they want is down here, so if they’re desperate, I don’t know where one would find safety.”

  Temar’s knotted stomach tightened until he felt like he might throw up the lunch Hannal had fixed. “You think they’ll attack?”

  Lilian pursed her lips and shook her head. “I doubt they’d be that crass. I would expect a politician to find a much neater way of getting what he wants without having to resort to crude means, at least not in the open where anyone might see him.”

  Shan leaned back. “So you think they’ll try to manipulate us?”

  “I would,” Lilian answered. “If you had what I desperately needed, I would smile and manipulate and convince you to think of me as your best friend and savior.”

  “And you’re afraid we’re going to fall for that?” Temar asked, not sure whether he should be offended or angry. Maybe both. He wasn’t some child who couldn’t see past a slick way with words, and neither was Shan. He stepped farther into the room, crossing his arms over his chest. Oddly, Lilian smiled at him, tilting her head in a way that might look coy on a younger woman.

  “I’m afraid you two are working yourselves to death. I’m afraid you’re going to make errors in judgment because you’re so busy preparing things that you aren’t preparing yourselves,” Lilian said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Temar didn’t think that was true of himself. He’d sat at a console, poking buttons and searching for information—he hadn’t been physically laboring. However, he did know it was true of Shan. The man looked exhausted, and in one week, his muscles had bulked up considerably as he worked long hours hauling rope through the sands to mark out landing areas and sorting equipment.

  “We’re fine,” Shan said with a roll of his eyes. “Neither of us needs mothering, Lilian.”

  “That is not how I hear Hannal describe it,” Lilian said dryly. “Now, Hannal is likely to exaggerate some. Despite her sharp tongue, she has an exceptionally soft heart. However, when Naite comments that you look worn to nothing, I take note.”

  “Naite?” Shan almost growled the word, but Lilian didn’t seem impressed.

  “He’s right,” Temar said, quick to take advantage of the situation. Shan needed rest, both sleep and a chance to stop thinking about how many people were relying on them. “We need to take a break. They’ll be here tomorrow, and we’re in no shape to meet anyone. They won’t be impressed with either of us if we have bags under our eyes.” Temar included himself in that to try and ease the insult, but now that Temar was really paying attention, Shan looked like he’d passed exhaustion two seasons back.

  “Once we get on the airship, it’ll take a good hour or two to run checks for the takeoff. Then we hold low orbit while the shuttle comes in for the scoop, and after that we have to stay in the airship while the shuttle maneuvers in-system. We’ll be stuck in our seats for a good six to ten hours before we hit subspace and the ship opens internal ports. I can sleep then.”

  Lilian raised a white eyebrow. “After you’ve already ruined your chance to make a notable first impression? I’ve seen the jewelry Nual made for you two. If you dishonor his calcite and malachite jewelry by looking so disreputable that it fails to make an impression, that man will not forgive you. Nor should he.”

  “Shan,” Temar said softly, but he could see by the set of Shan’s jaw that he had his back up. Lilian shouldn’t have mentioned Naite. That tactical error could cost her. “We’re both exhausted,” Temar said carefully. “The goal here is to impress the inner planets, not to sort equipment or even track the daily price of arsenic salts.” Shan was still frowning, but the jaw muscle had eased some. Temar moved closer, intentionally uncrossing his arms even if Lilian did leave him disquieted. “We need to keep the goal in mind, so let someone else sort the rest and if we leave a few datapads behind or don’t have the most up-to-date commodity prices, that’s not going to be the end of the world.”

  “I’m actually more concerned about taking up equipment that could be easily fixed and having them think we’re incompetent,” Shan pointed out.

  “If I look as worn out as you do, they’re going to think that anyway.”

  Lilian leaned back and steepled her fingers as she watched with poorly hidden amusement.

  “I think I look worse,” Shan admitted after a few minutes. “If Naite is worried about me, I must look like shit.”

  “You do,” Temar agreed.

  Shan gave him a disgusted look, and Temar held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I love you and I will always think you handsome, but you look like shit,” he repeated.

  “You two are ganging up on me,” Shan complained wearily.

  Temar knew one offer that Shan wouldn’t turn down. “If you take the rest of the day and tonight off, I’ll have Hannal send over an entire feast.”

  Sitting forward on the couch, Shan studied him carefully. “Yes, but will you eat it?”

  “As much as I can,” Temar offered.

  Ironically, he was eating more now. He’d sit at the computer and absentmindedly work his way through the cheeses or breads Hannal would send in. He’d even started gaining a little weight. However, the irony was that Shan nagged twice as much as Cyla had. Even with Temar’s improved eating habits, he acted like Temar wanted to starve himself. He didn’t. He just didn’t often get hungry, and sometimes waves of weariness or nausea would roll though. He’d smell the sweat of some worker coming through carrying boxes, and it was as if Ben was there, his sweat-stink filling Temar’s nose. The memory would return so vividly that any food Temar had eaten recently would end up in the toilet. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever recover completely.

  “I’ll sleep if you’ll eat,” Shan finally agreed as he stood up. Then he turned to Lilian. “But only if you agree to stop nagging.”

  “Nagging? Me?” She smiled sweetly. “I manipulate, connive, beguile, control, and finesse. I do not nag.” She gave Shan a haughty expression, but as she stood up, she gasped and grabbed the arm of the couch. Shan sprang forward and caught her, one hand around her waist, but immediately, she started batting at him. “I’m fine. Good Lord, you fuss. You and Kevin are both enough to drive an old woman to drink,” she complained, pushing at Shan until he retreated, all offers to help her withdrawn. “So, go sleep before you fall down, and you.” She pointed a thin finger toward Temar. He expected her to order him to get something to eat, but she surprised him. “Make sure he’s not sneaking out in the middle of the night to sort broken bits.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Temar answered.

  Lilian gave him a little wink before she headed for the door. “And I’m telling Hannal that you wanted a celebratory feast, just the two of you. You’ll have Wistia writing new ballads about your grand, romantic gestures.” Lilian snorted to make her opinion on the matter of romantic gestures clear. With that, she left, although Temar suspected she wasn’t through yet.

  Shan sighed as the door closed behind her. “Does she scare you as much as me?”

  “Yes,” Temar agreed emphatically.

  Shan sank back down onto the couch. “Half of me wonders if she wouldn’t be better for this job, even as sick as she is.”

  “One of us could develop some pain or something,” Temar said weakly. He doubted that anyone would truly believe either of them succumbing to a convenient attack of inexplicable pain, but no one would force them to go up either. “She’d go if there wasn’t anyone else to take the job.” He didn’t like the idea, but if Shan really thought Lilian
was their best choice, he wouldn’t argue with that, either.

  Shan looked at him, his mouth open in shock. “You want to try and manipulate Lilian Freeland?”

  “Don’t you think it would work?”

  Closing his mouth with an audible click of his teeth, Shan shrugged. “It might, it might not. I just want to take a second to appreciate the audacity of anyone with the balls to try and manipulate Lilian. If she guts you, I’ll go to your funeral.”

  Temar rolled his eyes as he crossed the room to sit next to Shan. “Are you serious about wanting her to go up?”

  That seemed to require some thought. Finally Shan shook his head. “No, but I am going to secretly curse the universe for not having this happen ten years ago. Lilian would have terrified them into handing over entire planets.”

  Temar nodded without answering, but he wasn’t so convinced. Ever since Shan had brought up the need to hide their poverty, Temar kept having the strangest thoughts. Watching people slowly bend to Lilian the way hot glass yielded to gravity and fire, he wondered whether she would have the same power on a station. On Livre, her herds and fields were wealth. Her position on the largest council on Livre was power. But would people from another planet see that? Would her fire and gravity be too weak to make them bend the way she maneuvered the people of Livre?

  “So, I should clean up, or the sheets are going to be disgusting in the morning,” Shan said, and he suddenly sounded twice as weary, as though the thought of sleep had stolen the last of his energy. Temar watched as Shan used the arm of the sofa to push himself up. Lilian was right—he needed rest.

  “I’ll check on the food and power down the computer,” Temar said. Shan nodded without answering as he moved slowly into the bedroom.