Third Don: Ardulum, #3

by J. S. Fields

  “Not speeches,” Atalant finished for Emn. There was a tug at Atalant’s mind, as if Emn were trying to draw a curtain between them. It cut off some of the flow of emotions. Atalant thought to press back, tell Emn she had no reason to hide her feelings, but then shook the notion from her mind. She’d asked for her own emotional space often enough. There was no reason to intrude.

  Emn continued. “They have seen some progress as of late. A few of the hidden flares are well-known engineers. They are being accepted more readily, as are the architects and artists. Yesterday, the southwest tower was roofed by an integrated team, and they socialized afterwards. Together.”

  “They, but not you?” It was a distinction Atalant had not considered. This time, she did prod Emn’s mind for a stronger connection, but Emn backed farther away.

  “Correct, Eld Atalant.” Emn’s consciousness was now a distant pressure. “The flares are a familial group, having been brought together and led, protected, by Corccinth. I think I would have had a chance to fit in with the flares who were institutionalized, but the only survivor became an eld.” She smiled awkwardly at Arik. “I am, and remain, Risalian.”

  “And I’ve been unavailable,” Arik admitted. Atalant caught the wisps of Arik’s guilt, echoes of her own. “Forgive me, Emn,” he said. “After everything I dragged you into, you deserve more than an apology. For right now, this is all I have. I’ll schedule a talk for this evening, speak directly to the palace builders. It’s not much, but maybe it will lay some groundwork.”

  “Talks haven’t been getting us anywhere,” Atalant reminded him.

  Arik nodded. “I know, but we never took the time to really address the old Eld policies on flares and what they did to us, nor how Emn came to be.” He rubbed his temples and sighed. “In theory, there could be hundreds of flares like Emn on other worlds, subspecies worlds or otherwise. I’ll find the records and share them with the populace. That’ll start a dialogue that should be very productive. That will take some time, which would give you a buffer, Eld Atalant, to travel. If I start it while you are gone, that might give the immediate shock time to settle before your return. We might also consider attempts to find these other flares, in time. Reintegrate. Start a program. Maybe if we found enough, it would balance things out.”

  Emn shifted in her seat to look at Atalant. A tempered set of emotions came back as well, as the conversation drifted into silence. “I think that sounds like a fine enough plan. Eld Atalant needs to attend to Neek.”

  “Emn,” Atalant interjected.

  “Take me along,” Emn said quietly. “You need this trip, and so do I.”

  Atalant let out a long breath. “Yes. Of course. We’ll go today.” It seemed a sudden turn for Emn, but that she chose to phrase it as a demand, rather than a question or request, filled Atalant with warmth.

  “Have you asked Ardulum for permission?” Arik raised an eyebrow. “Is that something we’re supposed to do? Traditionally, Eld don’t leave the planet. I’m not sure it’s allowed.”

  “I don’t care.” Atalant raised Emn’s hand to her mouth and kissed it. Emn smiled, and Atalant’s trepidation melted away. “I want you to join me, if you are willing. I only get in trouble alone. I’ll ask Nicholas as well. It’ll be a short trip, I assume. I can’t imagine the president wants me there for long, but maybe it can be our last adventure as a crew. The send-off for Yorden that we never managed.”

  Atalant released Emn’s hand, stood, straightened the hem of her shirt, and then took a step towards the stairway. “Arik, I’m going to have a snack, then a chat with the andal, and then leave soon after. Are you sure you’ll be all right here for a few weeks, alone, with a hectare of baby trees and sentient fungi throwing spores everywhere?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Arik stood as well and then bowed his head to Atalant. “Safe travels, Eld Atalant. Bring our gatoi, our new eld, home safely. Don’t forget to take an Eiean representative, as was dictated.” He walked to the main door and then spun on his heels. “Oh! Do you want to take part of the fleet? There are a few Ardulan ships there already, from the two fleets that went. Nineteen skiffs and nine cutters were sent too, to draw the Mmnnuggls away from Ardulum. You could take a few more ships, if you’d like. We have plenty, and no current need for them. It could be an honor guard, perhaps? A show of force?”

  It took a moment for Arik’s words to register. Emn had grabbed her hand again, trying to meet Atalant’s eyes. Atalant’s bench disintegrated underneath her, but she merely stood up in a daze.

  Nineteen skiffs and nine cutters…

  To draw the Mmnnuggls away…

  Atalant played the words again in her head, making sure she had heard them correctly. Ardulans on Neek, she could perhaps work her mind around. Fires burning her forests…well, the forests were mostly Ardulan andal at this point anyway. Still, the fires could give them a chance to replant properly. But, to send Ardulan warships to Neek?! What had the Eld been thinking? There were two hundred years of religious dogma to contend with. Social structures were in place. Ardulum was a damn religion. Gods couldn’t just show up and fight wars with strange aliens! The Neek holy books revolved around Neek making themselves worthy enough to find Ardulum someday, not Ardulum finding them! And she…she… She had found Ardulum, had become an eld, and now was going back to a planet that could be in the height of religious fervor—

  Atalant, Emn sent, pushing through the loose thoughts in the pilot’s mind. Come back to me.

  Atalant wanted to run at Arik, shake him, punch him. It wasn’t his fault, she knew, but she hated him right now for delivering the news. The fires and the warships were a giant beacon to the galaxy that the Ardulans had returned to further fuck up her homeworld, but there was no way she was going to let that happen again. Andal screw the former Eld! Atalant’s thoughts screamed. My planet is not a piece in some game!

  Arik moved around the table and approached Atalant with slow, cautious steps. “I’m sorry, Atalant. I just found the records today. Most of the old entries are gone, but Nicholas was able to recover some of the ones made just before the move. He just synced us with the old mainframe a few days ago. I should have dug through them earlier. I’m sorry.”

  She should have read them. She could have found the time, in between delegate meetings and andal plantings and flare speeches. Fuck! “I’ll talk to the andal now,” Atalant managed through gritted teeth. “Thank you for telling me. I should have read their files. The error is mine.”

  Arik opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut a moment later. Instead, he nodded and, with quick and light steps, exited the inn. Atalant caught the edge of a reproach from Emn’s mind, one not directed at her. The door shut firmly behind Arik just as the smell of roasted andal wafted into the room.

  Atalant collapsed. It wasn’t from exhaustion, although she was tired enough to warrant it. The smoky, spicy air caught in her throat, and she struggled to breathe as Emn caught her halfway to the floor. The two women sank to their knees on the polished andal. Atalant rested her head on Emn’s shoulder as she tried to breathe through the images and mental smoke and panic.

  How am I supposed to move on and leave Neek behind if I am constantly being pulled back to it? Atalant turned her head and buried it in Emn’s neck. Here, the smell was only of Emn’s skin and the light soap she used. Atalant tried to collect herself, but her mind, or the andal—Atalant wasn’t sure which—kept tossing images around. Burning trees. Charcoal forests. Death.

  Emn’s hands were in her hair. She undid the tight braid and freed the strands. They fell around Atalant’s face, cutting off the sunlight as Atalant pulled herself up slightly. I don’t want to go back there. There is no place for me. Going there to mitigate andal damage—that I can do. Unraveling more Ardulan messes… I tried to do that before. The people don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to get exiled again.

  You don’t have to go back. Emn brought Atalant’s head up and brushed the hair from her forehead. You are as much of Ardulu
m as you are of Neek. If you’ve truly left Neek behind, then there is no reason to return.

  Except that the previous Eld Council clearly had plans for the planet. Atalant pried her mind from visions of Neek’s destruction and tried to focus on what was right in front of her.

  “What do you want to do?” Atalant whispered, hoping that the words would be heard over the increasing din in the kitchen. Dinner would be out momentarily. It sounded like most of the cooking staff were already present.

  Emn raised an eyebrow.

  Atalant’s mood brightened at the suggestion, and she chuckled. “Yes, but after that.”

  Emn brushed a hand down Atalant’s arm as her gaze moved to the open window. “I want us both to have a home, Atalant. Right now, neither of us do. You can’t let go of your old one enough to build something new, and I can’t seem to find one that will accept me.” Her eyes came back to Atalant, and she laughed and shook her head. “We’re a well-matched pair, you and I.”

  Atalant allowed herself a moment to reflect on what returning to Neek might entail. “Can’t you just see the look on my uncle’s face when—”

  Emn leaned in and kissed her, and Atalant relaxed into the embrace. Diverted by the kiss, with Emn’s tongue dancing across her own and Emn’s fingers tracing just under the hem of her shirt, Atalant pushed the burning andal from her mind.

  You have to talk to the andal, Emn reminded her reluctantly as Atalant’s hands slid to Emn’s front and tugged at the fastenings there. Eventually, the owners will try to serve dinner. I suggest we move back to our room. You can have your chat with the andal there. If there is time after, perhaps— Emn let the sentence dangle.

  Atalant scowled as Emn helped her to her feet. One of these days, we’re just going to have to fuck propriety and live in the moment. I’m tired of waiting.

  Emn smiled wryly as she led Atalant up the stairs, their hands tightly clasped. I understand waiting all too well, love, she sent. We’ll find the time. I promise. These damn planets can’t keep us apart forever.

  Chapter 13: Eld Palace, Ardulum

  Seeding of Rithorununun

  Seeding of Keft

  Seeding of Neek

  Seeding of Yoshin

  Seeding of Eiean moon (unnamed)

  —List of tapestry panels to be produced for the reconstructed Eld Palace, first month of Squinth 1_16

  JANUARY 25TH, 2061 CE

  They didn’t find the time that night, much to Emn’s continuing frustration. The andal had soundly refused Atalant’s request to leave the planet, even when Atalant had explained that her arrival on Neek would likely save the burning andal. It also hadn’t bothered to give her a reason why she couldn’t go, just continued muttering about Atalant needing seeds and showing her images of Eiean lunar bipeds of varying genders. Atalant still hadn’t learned to tap down on their connection when she had strong emotions, and Emn had not enjoyed seeing a horde of naked bipeds parade through Atalant’s mind, especially when some of them, however subconsciously, caught Atalant’s attention.

  Even if Ardulum had approved their trip, they were still stuck until the Eieans determined who would accompany them. Since it made little sense to court the ire of a planet that had offed the previous Eld, Atalant had tabled the departure until things settled down. They’d slipped into bed and…promptly fallen asleep. They had every excuse to be exhausted, but Emn had hoped, foolishly, that they might spend the next day alone at the inn. Then, in the morning, a request from Nicholas had come in for Atalant to oversee a change in designs to the palace, there was a report of a fistfight between a flare and a gatoi, and Corccinth had sent a request for Emn to meet her in the receiving hall of the palace. There were too many things to ignore, especially since they were just killing time. So, they’d left the inn—Atalant slipping back into her boots and robes and Emn into her gloves and high-necked flight suit—and taken a ground transport to the old capital.

  By the time they arrived, it was pushing late afternoon, and both had missed lunch by oversleeping. Emn’s stomach growled as Atalant parked the transport in the clearing where the old marketplace had stood, but when Atalant looked over at her, Emn waved her hand.

  “There’s a printer in the back,” Atalant offered. “I know it’s not fresh, but maybe have a snack? The kitchen staff might be on break.”

  Emn just shook her head and hopped from the ship. The kitchens would be open for Eld Atalant, without a doubt. They would not be open for her, and Emn really didn’t want to brave more forced half smiles as Ardulans tried to be polite while moving away from her as quickly as possible. She wouldn’t have come at all if not for Corccinth’s request—and Atalant’s presence. Emn so rarely got to see Atalant that she would have braved another palace meltdown just to spend five minutes with the woman when they were both awake.

  Emn walked around the side of the ship and approached Atalant just as the pilot’s boots hit the ground. Atalant opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it, nodded, and then started walking. Emn fell into step behind her. She hated that she couldn’t explain the why of her own hesitation, but it was better, anyway, if there was some physical distance between them while they were at the palace.

  After only a few steps, Atalant turned and offered Emn her hand. “I’m sorry. I was walking too fast, wasn’t I?”

  “It’s not that. We’re in public,” Emn reminded her in a soft voice, taking a step back for emphasis. “Even if no one is around. What’s appropriate at the inn isn’t appropriate here.”

  “Why would our location matter?” Atalant wrinkled her nose in confusion, which tugged at Emn’s heart “We’re just going to the palace construction site. It’s just Nick and Corccinth and Hearth Talents. I know Arik had a rough time there yesterday, but most of the workers should be gone by now.” Again, she offered her hand. “What’s wrong?”

  Emn let out a long breath and shook her head. Atalant had to start seeing these things. If she didn’t play into the social structure of Ardulum, how would she be respected as an eld? “Look at how you’re dressed, Atalant. Think about what we’re here to do.”

  Atalant crinkled a handful of her robes in her right hand. “We’re just here to meet Nicholas, and I’m only wearing this stupid gold…oh.”

  Emn watched the fabric drop from Atalant’s hand as realization spread across her face.

  I’ve been trying to reconcile the flares with speeches, Atalant sent, her thoughts trailing slowly between them.

  Yes, you have.

  It’s been a half-assed job at best.

  Emn smiled a bit at that. You’ve been busy.

  “But the flare situation and reconciliation—that isn’t what you’ve been asking of me, is it? Equality with other Ardulans, being Risalian Ardulan…that isn’t the problem, is it? Or at least, not the biggest one?”

  Emn looked at the ground, not trusting herself to respond. There was too much tightness in her chest and too much moisture collecting in her eyes to risk it.

  Atalant took a tentative step towards her. “Me being an eld, these robes, your status…it’s all reversed now. I’m the issue. I’ve been an idiot.”

  The ground here was thick with green grass and wildflowers. Emn watched Atalant approach in her periphery, only raising her head to look into Atalant’s eyes when she was a few handspans away. It was hard, having a god, or a god’s mouthpiece, for a girlfriend, and the irony wasn’t lost on Emn. But, things were so much more complicated this time with the addition of the flares, the planet, and the fact that they were really and truly trying to have a relationship while everything kept getting in the way. The whole situation was maddening, and in that moment, Emn didn’t know whether to cry, laugh, or just fall into Atalant’s arms, bury her face in her hair, and pretend, too, that life was so much simpler than it really was.

  Atalant slid her hand onto Emn’s hip, and that small act of possession almost melted her into the wildflowers, gold robes or not. “I’m in love with you, Emn.”

  Emn cover
ed Atalant’s hand with her own as stuk from her fingertips began to moisten the fabric of Emn’s flight suit. “That’s what makes this so hard.”

  Atalant nodded, but her hand stayed, wonderfully, delightfully, on Emn’s hip. “I haven’t been thinking, and I…maybe I’m caught up, too, in this Eld thing. I didn’t mean to be. If you would like, maybe you could take off those gloves and we could walk into that palace together. I could start being the person you need me to be.” Atalant’s voice turned low. “I’m sorry.”

  Emn pursed her lips, trying to keep emotions at bay that would leak across their bond no matter how much she tried to force them down. Hope seemed suddenly a dangerous thing, out here in the tall grass, with young andal saplings lining the circumference of the old marketplace, but Emn clung to it like a lifeboat. She took a quick look around the empty clearing and listened to the sounds of construction coming from farther up the hill and then brought her hands together and slowly, deliberately, removed her gloves.

  This won’t solve the flare problem. Emn placed the gloves into her flight suit pocket as wisps of approval leaked from Atalant’s mind.

  No, it won’t. But the flares are Arik’s problem, for the time being, Atalant returned. She took Emn’s left hand in hers and smoothed the top with her thumb. The hand on Emn’s hip fell away. They aren’t the ones I’m concerned with. Not right now. Atalant trailed a wet finger over the veins on the inside of Emn’s wrist. You are Ardulan. My Ardulan. If I belong, so too, do you.

  Whatever had been holding Emn together fell away. Those were the right words. Emn melted into Atalant and kissed her, there, in the tall grass. The air was cool and still, the leaves on the andal saplings hanging perfectly perpendicular to the branches. Workers appeared over the top of the hill, and when hesitation threatened Emn, Atalant wove a hand into Emn’s hair and pulled them closer together.