LINDSEY Johanna - Heart of Warrior

by Heart of Warrior (lit)

  “Why didn’t you say Dalden wouldn’t have a clue?” Brittany had asked.

  “Because he would. I told you Dalden is unique, a product of two cultures, though he’d prefer it were only one. Both of Tedra’s children received a major part of their education from me, but only up to a point. Shanelle wanted to know everything and continued to learn, Dalden didn’t. After he made the decision to follow his father’s path exclusively, he wanted no more teaching from me, and he’s tried to forget everything he’d already learned about the rest of the universe. He can talk Just like Tedra, he just won’t.”

  “So he took after his father, and she took after her mother?”

  “In speech, yes, but women tend to be better at adapting, and Sham is a shining example of that. She can be the absolute perfect Sha‑Ka’ani daughter, obedient in every way but one, or she could move to Kystran and take up the life career of flying ships for trade or world discovery‑‑she spent a year there learning those careers.”

  “Back up. Every way but one?”

  “Come on, kiddo, common sense would tell you that since she’s been educated on how things are elsewhere, she’s not going to like every aspect of how they are at home. Ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes, and she’s not ignorant, which is why she learned to fly. She had every intention of leaving home to find a lifemate on some other world‑until she met Falon and got her socks knocked off just like you did.”

  “And she’s happy to stay at home with him now?”

  “Oh, yes.” Martha spared a condescending chuckle. “There’s something about that love emotion you people have that

  makes

  you perfectly willing to be where your mate is, whether you like where that is or not.”

  “Is this finally my preparation for not liking Sha‑Ka’an?” Brittany said suspiciously.

  “Not at all. You may love the heck out of it, once you get used to it. No crime as you know it, no fear as you know it, no worries about war, disease, sickness, Jobs, or anything else you’re used to worrying about.”

  “Utopia with a catch?”

  More chuckling. “If everything was absolutely perfect, doll, you’d get bored real quick. Now back to Sham. She’d make an ideal ambassador for Sha‑Ka’an, actually, because like Tedra, she’s well versed in every known language in the universe, and respects each species for its own uniqueness. They both fully support the League’s hands‑off policy on underdeveloped planets, even though they might wish it were otherwise for Sha‑Ka’an. They agree that a species must be left to develop at its own pace, for good or bad, that its full potential won’t be reached otherwise. It’s been proven by low‑tech worlds that once they start trading with more advanced cultures, their own development stagnates, setting them back centuries in the way of personal growth.”

  “Why?”

  “Because their creative people will naturally feel that anything that they could envision has already been created, so why bother.”

  “How is that avoided?”

  “It’s not, it’s happened time and again. So now when the League discovers a new high‑tech world, they rejoice, but when they discover a primitive world, they step very carefully. Trade gets restricted to the mundane, space travel isn’t offered, educating the primitives on what’s out there is minimal. A few non‑League planets and rogue traders might break this policy, but for the most part, it’s abided by.”

  “That doesn’t sound like what happened with Sha‑Ka’an,” Brittany pointed out.

  “They were an exception, because one of their natural resources is so greatly needed by the rest of the universe. But that’s worked out well because they finally restricted off‑world involvement themselves, so they get to progress at their own pace, while the League protects them from invasion by advanced worlds. And the League has a good representative there in Tedra. She’s the perfect go‑between, because she wants what’s good for both sides.”

  In a contained environment like the Androvia, Brittany had expected to get bored pretty quickly, but she never did. She learned to play some of the games in the Rec Room, which really amazed her. She wasn’t up to date by any means on computer-type games, never having owned a computer herself, but being able to control what seemed like real people in simulated wars and watch the action on movie‑size screens was impressive. It was like watching a movie, but you were the director of it, or the master puppeteer in control of the actors.

  And she had discovered a crafts room and ended up spending a lot of time there. It was for the crew, which the Androvia currently didn’t have, or for people who might have personal hobbles they didn’t want to give up just because they had elected space travel careers. Most of the stuff in the room made no sense to her, but the small section with stored wood and tools certainly did.

  She cluttered up Dalden’s quarters with her creations: a new table and chairs, and a nightstand‑and she insisted the bed remain out at all times for it. She made a double‑seated rocker that he’d never seen the like of and was sturdy enough for him to sit in with her. They used it each evening, sitting in front of the bank of windows, staring at the stars and the occasional streaking comet, and once, another ship that freaked her out until Martha’s soothing tones assured her it was just a passing trader.

  No, she was never bored. Corth II amused her a lot, too. He had a keen sense of humor and often used it to try and annoy Dalden, successfully. Martha explained that while Dalden had never experienced jealousy before and would discount it as being an emotion he wasn’t capable of, he wouldn’t experience it where other war

  riors were involved because he fully trusted them, while Corth II was a different matter, and unpredictable.

  Which was why Dalden didn’t mind her making friends with one of the young warriors who had an interest in woodworking. Kodos had always had a desire to make things with his hands, but had never come across anyone who could teach him how‑until her. That was his story, anyway, and one she chose to accept, because teaching him was something else to keep her busy and her mind occupied on other than the end of the project.

  No, Dalden didn’t mind at all her counting Kodos as a friend, but he did mind any time she spent with Corth II, who was an outrageous flirt. His flirting she didn’t take seriously. And Martha’s insistence that he wasn’t a real man but an android that she and her good buddy Brock, another Mock II, had mutually created, Brittany filed away with another mental “yeah, right.” If Dalden knew he wasn’t a real man, why would he be jealous?

  Martha, of course, had an answer for that, too: because an entertainment unit had been used for the android’s body, he was fully capable of sex‑sharing like a normal entertainment unit, and Dalden knew that. But Corth II was anything but normal, was apparently a free‑thinking computer that wasn’t restricted to stationary housing, and answerable only to Martha and Brock.

  Brittany had wanted to know why Martha hadn’t given herself legs, since that was possible. Martha’s reply was that you didn’t tamper with perfection. Brittany had a good laugh over that.

  She had made a point of not asking about things that she figured were going to upset her. Why rock an unsteady boat, after an? The rules and laws she’d been warned she would hate fell into that category. But the journey was coming to an end, so she was forced to finally put the matter to Martha.

  “Isn’t it time for me to learn their laws?”

  “Not really.” Martha used a bored tone, which was actually reassuring in this case. “As long as you’re with Dalden, he’s not going to let anything go wrong. When you’re left to your own devices, then you’ll need to know what you can and can’t do alone.”

  I am going to be told before I break any, right?” Brittany persisted.

  “Tedra wasn’t, but then Challen was Just like you, convinced that she had to be from his planet and so already knew everything about his planet, including all laws. He refused to believe in off‑worlders‑actually, he knew she was telling the truth about who she was, he just
didn’t want to believe it. Sound familiar?”

  That had annoyed her. They’d shown her some pretty fantastic things, or they would be fantastic if they were real. She just didn’t believe anything was real.

  So she wasn’t the least bit apprehensive about arriving on ShaKa’an. If she thought she would be meeting Dalden’s real parents instead of actors representing them, she’d probably be a nervous wreck, worried about all the normal things one worried about when meeting the family of the man she had committed to.

  And she was fully committed. After spending nearly three months with Dalden, there was no doubt that her heart wouldn’t be whole now without him. The thought of losing him when this was over and she was rejected as unconvinced, was so painful that she couldn’t face it. Nor had she been able to seek reassurance or ask what was going to become of them when this was over, because he would just insist there was never going to be an “over” for them.

  She sometimes thought that Dalden was actually as brainwashed as they were trying to make her, that he really did believe everything that had been told to her. She preferred to think that was the case, rather than that he was deliberately lying to her for whatever “good” reason. Lying would mean an end when the truth was finally admitted. And what would that end be? Go home, we’re done with you? Or stay with me and be part of the program? Could she agree to put other people through what she was undergoing? She didn’t think so, because bottom line, it was cruel to tamper with emotions to this extent.

  But the journey was over; the announcement had already been broadcast that they’d be home in a few hours. And now she’d find out how they could possibly depict an entire planet‑that was, if they were going to try. No studio could be that big. She’d have to be contained in a small part of it. But how would that be convincing? And they’d made the mistake of telling her that there was plant and animal life unique to Sha‑Ka’an, that even the air was different, edenlike, it was so pure and pollutant‑free. Hard things to fake.

  So was this going to be the end, then? When she stepped off the ship,” would they tell her, “You failed, you can go home now”?

  Chapter Thirty‑seven

  IT IS TIME.”

  Brittany was staring out the bank of windows in Dalden’s quarters at a very large planet that didn’t come close to resembling hers. Hers was two‑thirds ocean. This one had a lot of green, but very little blue. A nice computer simulation, like everything else she’d seen out those windows. And yet it looked so real it gave her chills.

  “We aren’t close enough to land yet,” she pointed out.

  “We are. For a ship of this speed, it is a matter of moments.”

  Dalden’s massive arms came around her from behind to draw her back against his chest. It was comforting and frightening at the same time, because he could be preparing her for their last moments together. The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she swung around to hug him tightly.

  “Tell me this isn’t going to be the end of us,” she said in a voice that was as close as she could get to pleading.

  Dalden lifted her face in his hands. His thumbs gently smoothed away the wetness on her cheeks. His own expression was intense.

  “I feel your pain. What causes it cannot be allowed to continue. After today, there will be nothing else for you to fear.”

  “I hate to break it to you, warrior.” Martha’s voice suddenly floated about the room. “But you are not reassuring her.”

  He turned a chagrined look at the wall monitor. “What must I do to ease her distress?”

  “Take her home, to her new home. Get her settled in. Introduce her to the family pets.” Some positively wicked‑sounding chuckling was inserted over that last suggestion before Martha continued. “It’s really too bad this ship didn’t come equipped with solaray baths. Three months of squeaky‑clean without a speck of water might have done some convincing. But she’s only had inanimate things to go by here, which she has discounted as being ‘tricks’ or things her own people could have invented. Fifty giantsized warriors didn’t impress her, when men can reach that height on her world. She thinks she’s been on a simulated ship, thinks she’s going to step off it and still be on her world. But you have things to show her now, live things. Living, breathing, unique, can’t‑be‑shoved‑into‑the‑‘trick’‑category things.”

  Brittany stepped back, bristling a bit with indignation. She really hated it when she got talked about while she was standing right there listening.

  “I hate to break it to you, Martha, but you aren’t reassuring me, either,” she said testily.

  “Wasn’t trying to, kiddo. I’m just telling the warrior what it’s going to take to end your delusional state. But then I did toss you a bone; you just didn’t catch it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  ‘New home ‘Settled.’ Sounds like a beginning rather than an end, don’t it?”

  It did, but words could be deceiving, or outright lies. She glanced at Dalden again, her skepticism plain. His own look turned determined, and she figured out why when he took her hand and marched her out of the room.

  “You’re taking me off the ship?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Why not take me off the same way I was brought on?” Brittany asked.

  Martha chose to answer, from the comm‑link Brittany had been given a few days ago. She’d been warned to keep it with her at all times until she ran out of questions.

  “Transfer can’t be done here until we’ve actually landed,” Martha said. “Sha‑Ka’an is surrounded by a global shield that prevents access by ships without permission. A hole in the shield is opened above the Visitors’ Center if permission is given, but even that opening contains a contamination shield. There is at least one meditech in each town, but that isn’t nearly enough to help if disease gets introduced to the planet by visitors. The second shield the ship passes through scans for contamination and, in the process, interferes with Molecular Transfer.”

  “But aren’t we about to pass through it?”

  “Yes, and I could send you straight to the palace once below the shield, but do you really want to miss out on seeing the sights on the way home? Your first ride on an airobus and then an hataar? The architecture in the countryside? Your first view of Sha‑Ka‑Ra from afar?”

  “Things you think are going to make me a believer?” Brittany guessed.

  “You betcha,” Martha said in smirking tones.

  Brittany snorted for Martha’s benefit, but she was starting to feel some excitement. A beginning‑that implied a life shared with Dalden. And she had reached a point of not caring where they shared it, as long as they shared it. She simply couldn’t bear the thought of losing him now. But on another world? How could she accept that as being real?

  Martha seemed to think she’d have no choice but to believe it pretty much said the same by the end of the day. Dalden had thing, that she’d have nothing else to fear after today. But where did that leave her? With Dalden, surely, but also with the fantastical concept of living on another world‑and meeting his real parents. Oh, jeez.

  Chapter Thirty‑eight

  SHE COULDN’T HAVE IMAGINED IT IF SHE’D TRIED.

  Brittany had been expecting a lot of spaceships laying around, nice, easy visual illusions. It was supposed to be a spaceport, after all. But none, zip, nada. Even the one she had just left wasn’t visible by the time she was on the ground. They’d stepped out of it into some kind of tramlike thing that whisked them along for about a minute, then stepped out of that into a long tubelike tunnel that ended inside a large round building. Looking back, all she saw was the tunnel opening and a lot of wall surrounding it.

  The building was immense, she’d give them that. It wasn’t often that you saw a ceiling about ten stories high. There weren’t very many people in it, though, for its size, and the few that were there were dressed strangely.

  “It’s just the disembarking terminal.” Martha’s voice started

  explaining from
the comm‑link on Brittany’s hip. “For all arrivals. Ships don’t land unless they need repairs. It’s not good for them to shut down.”

  “So they just hover up in space depleting their fuel? Sure.”

  Martha didn’t remark on her skeptical tone, said merely, “Fuel as you know it is obsolete. A ship can run forever on one inexhaustible gaali stone. And no, once inside the shield, they aren’t let out of it until they’re ready to leave. They connect to this hub to drop off passengers, then to the supply hub to restock, then return to this hub and float in standby above the center. It’d be a pretty impressive sight if seen from afar, but it was built to not be an eyesore to a people who don’t want reminding that it’s here, so it’s a very long way away from any towns, even Sha‑Ka‑Ra.”

  A really good excuse to not show her the Visitors’ Center from a distance. Their illusions must only be short‑range.

  She noticed the other tunnels then, like the one they’d come out of, ten in all, enough to accommodate a lot of passengers arriving at once, but no others were arriving except the people from their ship at the moment. There was a large open exit that they were heading toward, just a wide corridor that connected to yet another big building. No windows anywhere, to see what was outside. Now why didn’t that surprise her?

  “This Center is like a small city, at least what you would consider a small city‑Sha‑Ka’ani towns don’t come this big,” Martha said, continuing the role of tour guide. “It covers two square miles, the port taking up half of that, the trade goods warehouses taking up another big chunk. The rest is devoted to housing for the Trade Ambassadors, security, personnel, and visitors who don’t get to stay long. Then you have the areas for maintenance, supplies, repair, and anything else needed to make it a self‑contained area.”