Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

I heaved a sigh. “No, Zye. That isn’t what I’m saying at all.”

-13-

Over the next few hours many of our questions were answered. We were also allowed to communicate with
Defiant
. This contact was met with obvious relief by Durris.

“And things are going well, Captain?” he asked for a second time.

I ran my eyes over Grantholm and Zye. They both looked uncertain.

“Yes,” I said at last. “We’ve met the Connatic. After a few misunderstandings, these people have turned out to be quite polite.”

“All right, sir. I’ll expect to hear from you again in one hour.”

“You will.”

Disconnecting, I managed to sum up a smile for the Connatic. She watched me warily. I had to give her credit, she was a brave one. She’d come alone and unarmed to speak with people who’d slaughtered a squad of her guards. We’d been provoked, yes, but she couldn’t know if we were savages or not.

Noticing she was staring at me without speaking. I gave the Connatic a smile in return. Lady Grantholm cleared her throat.

“Originally, your people came from Japan sector, if I understand it,” she said to the Connatic. “Is that correct?”

“Yes. I believe that was the name of the place.”

“I take it you don’t speak the old language?”

“Very few have any memory of it. We’ve taught our young only Standard for a century now.”

“You know,” Grantholm said, walking about the garden we found ourselves in. “This place is artfully done. Would it surprise you to know that there are places very much like this, back on Earth in Japan Sector?”

“I suppose it would only be logical,” the Connatic said politely. She’d turned away from Grantholm and had planted her eyes back upon me again.

I found her frank scrutiny a little disturbing. So did Zye, I could tell.

Zye wasn’t saying anything. She wasn’t even frowning. But her unblinking gaze and slightly hunched shoulders told the tale to anyone who knew her well.

“Lady,” Grantholm said, stepping closer to the Connatic and trying to wrest her attention from me.

“What is it?”

“We must discuss agreements. Earth has much to offer and would like to trade with you.”

“As you wish, but we have little of value. Bandits regularly take it all.”

Grantholm faltered, then continued. “Bandits? They come here often?”

“Yes. They demand tribute, slaves, resources… we fight them if we can.”

Grantholm’s tongue appeared and vanished again. “I see. Perhaps you need arms, then? That’s a trade good you could use.”

For the first time, the Connatic turned to her and gave the Ambassador her full attention.

“Earth would do that? Give arms for sunflowers, slaves and raw radioactive ore?”

I myself was taken aback. I didn’t know what my aunt had been empowered to offer. Earth must want a trading partner pretty badly to hand out weapons in return for useless items.

“No slaves, please,” Grantholm said, “but we’ll take a few of your agricultural goods, if they’re of quality. In return, we’ll give you orbital platforms, missiles and detection systems.”

The Connatic frowned. “We don’t need more Earth troops or warships here. You fight well, but we must maintain our sovereignty.”

“Of course! Of course!” Grantholm purred. “Are you interested?”

“I’d be a fool to pass up such an offer. It’s so generous, however, I’m suspicious of your motives.”

Grantholm nodded. “Let me enlighten you then. We need knowledge, Connatic. Earth is strong, but we’ve been cut off from our child colonies for so long we don’t know them any longer. We need to know who is dangerous, who can be trusted, and how to find them.”

“Ah…” the Connatic said in sudden understanding. “You need our maps. Our knowledge of the bridges and the systems beyond each of them.”

“That’s right.”

The Connatic appeared to consider the matter carefully.

“We agree,” she said suddenly after approximately a minute’s deliberation.

“Just like that?” I asked. “You have that power? There’s no council, no meetings of wise people to ponder the details?”

She looked at me as if I was unbalanced.

“I am the Connatic,” she said simply. Her tone suggested this explained everything.

“All right then,” Lady Grantholm said, clapping her hands together and giving the Connatic a beaming smile. She gave me a dour look that clearly suggested I should shut up.

“I hope you’ll all meet me for a ceremonial dinner,” the Connatic said.

“We certainly will,” Grantholm assured her.

The leader of this strange colony then left us, and Lady Grantholm turned on me.

“William,” she said, “please don’t question the sanity of our hosts if they immediately agree to our terms!”

“Sorry about that. She surprised me.”

“She surprised me as well…” Grantholm said, beginning to pace. “This deal is critical to Earth. I suggest you bed her tonight, after this dinner event of theirs. Don’t be shy, be direct.”

It was my turn to appear shocked. Zye was equally alarmed.

“What?” I demanded. “Why would I…?”

“Don’t be naïve, boy. She fancies you, that’s obvious. In primitive cultures, dashing men in ships have always held allure for a princess stuck on an island somewhere.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Madam, I have commitments back home.”

“What? Are you refusing to do your duty out of loyalty to House Astra? Are you a Sparhawk or not?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Lady, but I’m indeed a Sparhawk. Our House—”

“Your House is one of expediency. Your father would bed a crone to broker a deal, and your mother wouldn’t do more than grit her teeth over it.”

This statement bothered me, and it fascinated Zye. But I didn’t protest. I couldn’t. My aunt was right, and we both knew it. My parents were political animals. They’d long ago abandoned certain niceties in their quest for influence.

“Be ready in an hour,” the ambassador said. “We’ll eat with them and seal this deal. Once we have their star charts, we’ll leave this abominable system. There has to be a better trading partner than this hell-hole out here in space somewhere.”

So saying, my aunt left the room. I could feel Zye’s stare upon me. I didn’t face her.

“Are you going to do it?” she asked me quietly.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s such a big opportunity for Earth. If we can get a list of ER bridges and the worlds connected—imagine the number of missteps that could be avoided. The risks would be drastically reduced. Our entire mission would benefit quite significantly as well.”

“You like her, don’t you? The Connatic?”

I didn’t respond. I
did
like her. There was something exotic, intelligent, and innocent about her all at the same time. The truth was I’d had as much trouble keeping my eyes off her as she’d had with me.

“I don’t see why she’s so appealing.”

“Zye, don’t be jealous.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not constructive. It’s not professional. Besides, there’s no cause for it. You and I have never been involved.”

She stepped in front of me, and I looked at her big face. “You saved me. Another would have slain me, or left me there to rot. You released me from my prison of years. I’d given up hope, you know.”

I nodded. I’d suspected as much. When I’d first met Zye she’d been a forgotten prisoner, abandoned on
Defiant
by her own people. Only the fact that the cell had been automated to care for her had allowed her to live so long.

Putting out my hands, I took hers. “You’re a dear and loyal friend. Can that endure? Can you overcome your feelings and stay at my side?”

“Yes,” she said after a thoughtful pause. “But if you mate with this colonist, I’ll dream of strangling her.”

I chuckled. “I understand. You probably wouldn’t be the only one.”

We parted to clean ourselves in hot baths of still water in preparation for our political meal. I found myself thinking about Lady Astra, the woman who’d captured my heart nearly two years ago. We were lovers, but we weren’t betrothed. We’d never made each other promise to be faithful during my long journeys. We were both realists—and now that relationship was at an end.

It was difficult for people of high station to remain monogamous, especially when one of them was obliged to travel the stars for weeks, months, or even years at a time. Lady Astra had moved on. I wondered if I should do the same.

What should I do if the Connatic made her intentions even more clear? What
would
I do? I wasn’t sure.

Arriving at a set of ornamental gates, I offered my arm to Lady Grantholm. She took it, and we walked in together. Automatically, we moved with locked-step grace. We’d been to countless pageant-like gatherings of our own, and we felt at home among the silk-clad people who surrounded us.

Zye, on the other hand, looked very annoyed. She was a brooding figure. She hulked in one corner, eating and staring rudely at the colonists. The natives dodged out of her way whenever she approached the central buffet to fill her plate again, and she offered no apology for scaring them. She ate a lot, but I pretended not to notice.

The food itself was excellent. There were many dishes of an Earthly nature, such as kiwi-like fruits, chilled slices of spiced fish and rice with a peculiarly long grain. But there’d been several dishes I couldn’t readily identify, such as a dark meat that tasted something like a cooked beet.

The Connatic finally made her appearance after everyone had eaten and engaged afterward in polite conversation for nearly an hour, awaiting her arrival. Apparently, coming to the party late was normal for the Connatic.

Her glorious entrance stopped my conversation at once. I could no longer recall what I’d been talking about.

She wasn’t as she’d appeared before. Instead of simple, utilitarian clothing, she’d dressed in a blooming gown of white. The gown itself wasn’t a flat fabric, but rather was made up of countless triangular wedges of cloth sewn together.

I realized instantly that she was wearing a costume that resembled the station we were dining within. It was an odd effect, almost something a primitive people of Earth might have done.

Whatever the intention and the origin of her clothing, the effect was stunning and her face was lovely. I stood up when the rest of the people did, and I felt myself entranced.

She made no lengthy speeches. She nodded to those who came close to greet her, and she eventually made her way to Lady Grantholm and I.

My aunt gave me an unsubtle nudge. I stepped forward and bowed low, sweeping my right hand almost to the floor as I’d seen the others do.

“My Lady,” I said, “you look lovely tonight.”

Those around us who were within earshot fell silent and froze. Instantly, I realized I’d committed an error, a breach of etiquette. Rather than apologize, I smiled broadly. Surely, these people must realize I didn’t know their customs.

“I’m so sorry if my nephew offends,” Lady Grantholm said quickly. “He’s never been an easy one to train.”

The Connatic slid her eyes to my aunt, then back to me where they locked in place.

“It is nothing,” she said.

All around us, the others started breathing again. I did the same. I’d held my fixed smile throughout the moment, and I didn’t let it slip now.

“Would you be so kind as to join us?” I asked.

“I will,” she said.

Together, we circled around a low table with soft edges and firm pillows for seats. Zye watched this from perhaps ten meters away. She was alone, and she was consuming yet another plate of food.

The Connatic’s dress didn’t puff up and block her vision, as I’d thought it might. It had been cunningly designed to fold as she sat down, allowing her to appear at ease.

She nibbled a few choice items, then turned her gaze back up to us. “I didn’t realize you were related.”

“Oh,” Lady Grantholm said. “Yes, we are. William’s grandmother is my niece.”

“I see,” she said. “Such a relationship indicates either great age on your part, or great youth on William’s. Which is it?”

It was our turn to be mildly offended. With the advent of longevity drugs, people’s physical ages on Earth had been less easy to identify. It had, over time, become rude to bring up disparities such as the one she’d pointed out.

But as guests, we tried to hide our displeasure. Lady Grantholm leaned forward and whispered her answer, as if it was a distasteful topic.

“You have to understand, my dear, that on Earth people live very long, full lives.”

The Connatic stared at her for a moment. “Just how old are you, Ambassador?”

My aunt licked her lips. Her eyes flashed, but she managed to hold onto her smile.

“I’m a hundred and seventy years young.”

The Connatic made a tiny coughing sound. Her eyes widened to an almost comical degree.

“Really? How is this possible?”

I jumped in then, explaining that we’d developed Rejuv on Earth, and later on, even more powerful longevity drugs. She listened closely.