Massoud (Massoud Chronicles Book 1)

by Amanda R. Norris

  Massoud sighed deeply, as if she was relieving herself of a burden. “I’m afraid, Admiral, I feel humiliated by this. I am the one being protected. I did a stupid thing. It was an accident—while I was handling the weapon. I’d left the safety off, and the weapon discharged while the captain was nearby. My only excuse, and I know it’s inadequate, is that I was on limited rations, injured from the pod descent and struggling with the gravity of the planet. I was tired. I hurt one of my shipmates. It’s something I can’t forgive myself for. The captain chose not to report my foolishness, I presume?”

  “Are you telling me that you are so utterly incompetent that you almost killed your commanding officer?” Williams was incredulous.

  “It’s very embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing is not how I would put it. The man’s heart and lungs were damaged. He could have died at any time prior to receiving medical treatment.”

  Massoud looked stricken. It was the first genuine emotion the admiral had observed, and she was encouraged to try again.

  “It is natural to feel loyalty to someone who did so much for his crew, your friends, but if you acted in self-defense, Massoud, you can tell me,” the admiral cooed. “I would understand. I would stand by you.”

  Massoud simply shook her head.

  After a long minute waiting, the admiral proceeded. “You are carrying Captain Teloc’s child. Do you want to tell me about that?”

  “It’s a girl!”

  The admiral frowned, her eyes burning with annoyance. Her patience was being sorely tried.

  “I’m sorry, Admiral. What do you actually want to know?” Massoud responded contritely.

  “Did your sexual relationship with Captain Teloc pre-date your arrival on Delta Alpha Seven B?”

  “No.” Massoud squirmed at the clinical nature of the question.

  “Did you continue to have sexual relations on the Achievement?”

  “No.”

  “Did you only have sexual relations after arriving on Seven B and prior to rejoining your crew?”

  “Yes.”

  “In other words, sexual contact occurred only while Captain Teloc was subject to his temporary insanity.”

  Massoud remained silent.

  “Did Captain Teloc force or coerce you into a sexual relationship?”

  “No.”

  Once again, the admiral shifted to a sympathetic tone. “His medical condition would exculpate his behavior. We do not hold the insane responsible for their actions. That being said, such events can still be traumatic for those who experience them. The fleet has resources to help the victims of abuse. We can help. It’s not good to keep these things buried.”

  “I’m not...” Massoud stammered.

  “Sometimes women identify with their abuser. Capt. Teloc is the same age as your father...”

  Massoud snapped into a standing position. “Not this again. Is that all you see when you look at me? Look, Admiral, this is how it was. Teloc did not harm me. The sex was consensual and...and, it was absolutely amazing. In fact, it was mind-blowing. Unimaginably fantastic. Totally and utterly brain- blasting and body-melting.” Her face suffused with the memory of it. “It was so great, so incredible. I could never have imagined feeling like that. Admiral, promise me, if you’ve never had sex like that, you’ll go and seek it out. You just have to. No woman should go through life without experiencing something that stupendous.” Massoud looked exuberantly at the stony-faced admiral. The admiral’s aide stifled a giggle in the background.

  “Commander Massoud, are you admitting fraternization?” was the wearied response.

  “Oh, yes,” Massoud declared joyously.

  The interview ended shortly thereafter. Later that day, Massoud got a message from Teloc saying the assault investigation had been dropped.

  12. Marriage

  M assoud was sitting miserably in her sister’s kitchen. She suffered her belly to rest on her legs and her breasts on her belly; both were peculiar sensations to one who had always been slight. It was her wedding day and it was an embarrassment. It was all an embarrassment. Her guests were clearly uncomfortable. Teloc had been distant, telegraphing that the marriage was one of convenience. There had been no joy or exuberance, just stilted congratulations and wishes that they might be happy.

  Noor had arranged the nuptials and she was the true host, even though Teloc had paid for everything. Noor’s handmade food had been the success of the day. She had been flattered when the Gnostian diplomats, whom Teloc had insisted on inviting, asked her to represent Meccan Colonies at a culinary cultural exchange to be held at the embassy. Noor was now babbling about how fortunate it was that she was accustomed to preparing vegetarian meals, since halal meat was so expensive. There was no reason the distinguished Gnostian guests could not enjoy her usual menu.

  Teloc entered the kitchen, with his hands clasped behind his back in his habitual fashion. To make Massoud feel even more forlornly frumpy, he looked marvelously handsome in a sleek black suit that complemented his black hair, with a soft white shirt just visible at the neckline. Noor greeted him with a query regarding the number of appetizers still available in the other room. His answer sent her out with another tray. Massoud observed them both—Noor happily flustered and Teloc so cool and calm.

  “Elizabeth Massoud, may I have a moment of your time?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, sighing at his formality.

  “I have a gift for you. It is symbolic of the mahr.” He pulled a small gift box from behind an unstable stack of bowls. He must have placed it there prior to Noor’s kitchen upheaval. Massoud’s heart lightened at his thoughtfulness and she was buoyed by his gesture.

  “Oh, I didn’t get you anything. I feel so bad,” she gushed.

  “An additional gift is unnecessary. I am satisfied with my wedding ring. Also, my understanding is that the mahr is a required gift from the groom to the bride and not the other way around. These gender differences are quite interesting.”

  “Yes, well, be careful of those gender differences. Some interpret them to mean that I shouldn’t marry you at all, since you’re not Muslim. Did you see the inscription on the inside of the ring?”

  “Indeed. Our names and today’s date.”

  She took off her own ring. “What does this say? It’s in Gnostian.”

  He gave her a look that hinted continuing annoyance with her ignorance of Gnost. He could convey so much to her with just the slightest change in his expression.

  “The inscription says that Teloc and Elizabeth Massoud are bonded irrevocably. The date is the day on which I bonded with you on Delta Alpha Seven B.”

  Massoud looked down at the ring attentively, until she was composed enough to look complacently at her new husband. She did not like to be reminded of his unilateral bonding with her. He seemed to observe her hesitation.

  “It was where our child was conceived,” he clarified.

  “Yes, of course.” She tried not to sound too distant. “Look Teloc. A lot of bad stuff happened on Seven B too. I try not to think of that planet. I’m sorry.”

  He looked a little stiffer than usual as she opened his gift. Massoud was developing quite a talent for interpreting minor changes in his posture. She pulled out a gleaming rock and looked at it in puzzlement.

  He explained, “It appears I have chosen my gift poorly. It is a rock from Delta Alpha Seven B. I had it professionally polished. After you were transported off the planet, I remembered that you liked to bring a rock back to your nephews from each planet you explored. I collected several to that end. I gave each of your nephews a rock from Delta Alpha Seven B earlier today.”

  “Really? I’m surprised you remembered I did that. That was incredibly thoughtful of you.” She was warming to the idea of the rock, or perhaps to her considerate groom. She turned the gift in her hand to admire it. “It’s quite a nice rock isn’t it? And you are a geologist, so it really is appropriate. What kind of rock is it?”

  Teloc’s response wa
s interrupted by Abdul propelling his energetic self into the kitchen. “Come on you two. It’s time for the toast.”

  Teloc tilted his head in question, and Massoud nodded to indicate they should follow her brother-in-law to the adjacent room where the guests were gathered. Abdul encouraged everyone to take a glass, explaining to Painter that the glasses contained fizzy juice, not alcohol, with that ever-ready explanation: “It’s a Meccan thing.”

  Used to public speaking, Abdul moved to the center of the room, looking as if it was his heart’s joy to be the focus of attention. He reminded Massoud of his two oldest sons, who were always in competition for the spotlight. Only little Hammie shied away from people, happy to be in the shadows.

  Abdul began. “Dear friends, family, and honored guests, it is my privilege, as Elizabeth’s closest relative, to welcome you to my home to celebrate this most unexpected occasion—the marriage of my sister to...well anyone.” Abdul was rewarded for this quip with a few chortles. “I am especially delighted to welcome such a fine upstanding,” Abdul placed his modest person beside that of his new brother-in-law and turned his head up slowly to encompass Teloc’s significant height, “—such an exceptionally upstanding man and officer as Capt. Teloc of Gnost.” The guests smiled at his little playacting, with the exception of the diplomats, who were baffled. Now he had his audience’s attention, Abdul adopted a quasi-serious tone.

  “Friends, it has been many years since I have looked upon Elizabeth as my own little sister. She has brought joy into our home and warmth into our hearts. She has been a wonderful aunt and I know she will be a wonderful wife and mother. Although I should probably not mention the time she dropped my eldest into a fountain when he was a baby.”

  “That’s not fair. He was awfully squirmy,” interjected Massoud. Abdul waved her objection aside.

  “Teloc we do not know so well, but we see enough to know that he is honest and worthy.” The guests from the fleet nodded approval. The diplomats were impassive. “Without him, Elizabeth would never have returned from her last voyage, and we can never thank him enough, or honor him enough, for that. It is my privilege to welcome him into our family, as our brother. Teloc, I formally gave permission for you to marry my sister. So, now the contract is signed, and it’s too late to back out. However, as a long-suffering, I mean, long-married man, I recommend you consider it before things go any further.”

  Noor poked her husband in the ribs. He grinned and gave her waist a squeeze. “I’ll try to be more serious, sweetheart. Teloc, we entrust our sister to you and wish you both every happiness. Ladies and gentlemen, a toast! To Elizabeth and Teloc!”

  The guests raised their glasses, clinked, and drank. Massoud noticed bleary smiles among the faces of her own guests. There might be no alcohol, but it seemed they had put something directly into their blood stream. A loose voice from among the guests called out. “Hey, they haven’t kissed yet!”

  Teloc looked askance at Abdul, who nodded encouragement. Massoud cringed at the thought that Teloc was taking advice from Abdul. The two had been spending time together, since Abdul had mischievously declared that he was obliged to vet his prospective in-law.

  Massoud glanced nervously at her groom, who self-consciously approached her, placed his arms around her, and leaned down. Teloc did not touch people as a rule. He did not hug them. He knew nothing of social kissing. His only experience of the kiss was from his joining with Elizabeth. So, he kissed her as he had kissed her on Seven B, drawing her to him, gently moving his lips over hers, pausing briefly to give her a look full of question, and then continuing, slipping his tongue into her mouth, setting her afire, leaving her clinging to him, helpless in her want for him. She did not see Abdul chuckling, or Noor disapproving, or the diplomats looking away. Nor did she hear old crewmates and friends hoot approval. She only felt her husband’s strong body and the flush of her skin on his cool neck which was encircled in her arms.

  Finally, Teloc withdrew, sharing an indecipherable look with her before returning to his normal stance. She continued to cling to his nearest arm, disorientated, and needing the support. She looked up at him, wondering if he found her proximity intolerable, but he looked down at her with a whisper of a smile. Her heart beat intolerably fast.

  The mood had changed in the room as with the turning of a leaf. The embarrassment at witnessing such a dispassionate wedding evaporated. There was a general sense of relief, celebratory and tasting of happiness. A rumble of approval permeated the gathering. Detzler squeezed her boyfriend’s arm and declared, “That was so romantic.” Takei’s Elsie announced too loudly, “Thank goodness for that. I was wondering where that baby came from.” Singh reminded her husband that half the women on the Achievement had the hots for Teloc. Chrostowski sidled up to Massoud to whisper in her ear.

  “Do you know you turn pink when he touches you? Even your arms and legs. That man is a dark horse. Who knew? How did you two ever get together? You couldn’t have been doing this on board. You couldn’t have hidden that kind of reaction to him.”

  Elizabeth remained speechless. She could only smile at those outside the instant cocoon that Teloc’s kiss had created. Chrostowski chattered on, saying something about having a thing for earth-mother types and wondering if Noor turned pink too. Elizabeth could hardly understand her and smiled inanely after her friend as she disappeared into the kitchen. She looked up at Teloc, to see him observing his diplomat acquaintances, whose looks had a strong flavor of judgment.

  She was still clinging to him like butter to bread, when Kim Patel and her gangly son arrived, gatecrashing, as she explained, to show support. Capt. Patel was not as impressive in a civilian dress as she was in uniform; she appeared bony and rake-thin. She was soon joined by a more surprising gatecrasher, Lt. Benton.

  “I just had to see it with my own eyes. I couldn’t believe a Gnostian had persuaded the indomitable Commander Massoud to marry him! I have to find out how he did it, so I can do it myself.” Benton was hiding a hint of hurt behind his good humor.

  “Actually, I asked him,” a blushing Elizabeth said.

  “Well there was never any hope for me then. You’re an incredibly lucky man, Captain.” Benton slapped Teloc on the arm and asked, “May I kiss the bride?”

  “No,” answered Teloc abruptly.

  Patel’s son gawped at the interplay, but his mother smiled broadly and undertook to explain each man’s point of view to the other.

  “Julius, on Capt. Teloc’s planet, people do not touch each other socially. Your request seems extraordinary to him. I suspect Capt. Teloc finds the common handshake uncomfortable. Capt. Teloc, on Denison, it is a tradition to congratulate a friend with a little kiss on the cheek.”

  “Will Lt. Benton wish to kiss me too?” was the acerbic reply.

  “No, that is not customary,” Kim Patel clarified. “You do not know Benton so well. Also, it is not common for men to kiss socially.”

  Elizabeth sensed Teloc’s stiffness and experienced a surge of annoyance towards him. He didn’t have the right to be possessive in a marriage of convenience. She stepped forward and offered her face to Benton, who planted a smackingly loud peck on her cheek.

  “Massoud, you look beautiful today. Glowing, as they say. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  Patel’s son gawped some more. Teloc was almost overtly displeased. Elizabeth laughed.

  “Benton, you’re a flirt. It’s my wedding day and I am standing right beside my new husband. What are you thinking?”

  “He who dares, wins.”

  Patel decided the newly-weds needed a reprieve and pulled Benton off to find food. Her son found Elizabeth’s older nephews and joined their game.

  Elizabeth was engaged in conversation by several guests who marveled at her sister’s cooking and kitchen, amazed that she had a manual cooker, oven, and permanent refrigerator—both because they were relatively rare and because she actually used them for food preparation. After a few minutes, Elizabeth detach
ed from the group and looked about unsuccessfully for Teloc. She was informed he had stepped outside. She followed and discovered him in the elevator lobby, sitting on the armchairs that were to be found there. Since they were too short for his long frame, he gave the impression of being in an uncharacteristic sprawl, and, in truth, his mood seemed cloudy and unresolved.

  “Teloc, are you alright?” Elizabeth asked, concerned that the stress of the day had brought him to some sort of psychological impasse.

  “I have had a number of emotional responses today. They are quite wearing,” he stated. “They were inconsistent one with the other. Intolerable! In addition, I am quite dissatisfied with how he interacted with you. It did not seem appropriate, even by Terran standards.” She heard the aggravation in his voice.

  “You mean Benton. It meant nothing. He was flirting. Men often do that with a bride. I’m not quite sure why.”

  “He likes you. He wants you.”

  “He did like me before he heard about the baby. The news about the baby quite put him off. But he doesn’t want me. Look at how fat I am.”

  “If he does not want you, why did he say those things? Also, you are not fat. You are a suitable size for a woman halfway through her pregnancy.”

  “I feel so enormous and unattractive.”

  “Lt. Benton does not find you so.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “I promise you, if I offered myself to Benton right now, he would turn green and run away as fast as he could. He was just flirting. It was meaningless.”

  Teloc looked doubtful, so Elizabeth addressed what she believed to be the root cause of his troubles.

  “Teloc, now that we are married, there is no risk of you becoming a ward of Gnost. If a doctor thinks your mental health is severely impaired, I would become your guardian. Isn’t it time you got help for your emotional, um, what are we calling it now, emotional upheaval?”

  “You are correct, no doubt, Elizabeth Massoud. However, I have delayed seeking out a suitable physician for the most illogical of reasons. Although, I find my emotional experiences to be disturbing, I fear losing them too, especially those that are pleasant or increase my response to pleasure. It is paradoxical and moronic on my part. I am supposed to be an intelligent man, but I cannot follow the course of reason.”