Hesparia's Tears (7 page)

The door opened and there she stood. Pale, sweating and obviously in pain. He didn’t dash to her side, even though his body demanded it. He had to act nonchalant. Joras had hammered that home, and he knew, on a purely subconscious level, that was the advice he would have given to anyone in his position. But this time, he struggled to remain impassive.

He scanned her with his gaze
,
taking in the wooden aides under her arms. He checked her over, dipping to her breasts, full and high beneath her light top, and down to the skirt. Finally, he caught sight of the monstrosity on her leg. ‘Bodily damaged’, Joras had reported. Rage grew, contorting within him like an angry dragon ready to soar. With ruthless efficiency he chained it in.

Jessa hobbled her way towards a chair. He moved, dragging out a seat and watched as she settled into it with a grateful grunt. The agent at his side pulled another chair forward and slowly raised the leg to the padded surface. She hissed as if feeling a bone deep ache and he curled his fingers into the flesh of his palms. “Jessa? What happened to you?”

She turned and he could see the pain dazing her eyes. “Healer? Deal with Jessa first.” He bit the words out. Waiting as his medics came closer, scanning her body with a small portable device before shaking their head.

“Barbarians.” He could hear the healer’s comments and agreed inwardly with the sentiment. In a flash the man had crossed the room, sifting and sorting through his assortment of technology and herb based remedies. Satisfied, he came back and attempted to gain access to the leg. “How do you get to the flesh with this stuff all over it?”

Once more Galan watched as the medic hustled back to Jessa, the whole time fury bubbled below the surface.
How could this have happened to my Jessa?
He returned with a small sonic cutter and made a careful incision in the dried paste on her leg. Jessa winced and looked away and for the first time since she had returned to him, Galan could see the damage wrought on her body.

Once a small section of the material had been cut away and an access point created, he could see some purple and swollen flesh below. He retreated a little way, sure he would empty his stomach before her.

Her pain-filled whispers forced him to turn around, and he waited while his stomach clenched. The healer held a small bone regenerator against her skin. He reached out and she gripped his hand tight, squeezing. He accepted the pain, hoping to offer her some support during the process of her bone setting and regrowing around the obvious fracture. Finally, her grip loosened and her skin began to lose the white pinched look.

The man sighed. “How do we even get this thing off?”

The agent moved forward. One of Galan’s security detail stopped him.

With a small grunt the medic inspected the purple mass, retreated to his bag and hunted noisily. When he returned, he held a small cutter and made an incision, slicing carefully down the thing Jessa called a cast until he held the front section. Galan held his breath, watching him at work, knowing one slip and her skin would be cut too.

Then, with a gruff voice, the Hesparian demanded Jessa stand.

Jessa’s eyes caught his, and he could read the fear and trepidation in their depths. With an inhaled breath she reached for the aids, but the physician tut tutted and shook his head. “You won’t need them.”

Galan extended a hand and she stood, placing the injured leg on the floor. “Oh. My. God.” He smiled at the comment. “You fixed me!” She let go of Galan and flung both arms around the healer with a squeal.

He looked at Galan, horrified, and tried to disentangle himself while Galan guffawed at her reaction. “Come now, Jessa. Let the healer do his job.”

She looked at him and smiled, placing her fingers back in his. He savoured the strength of her grip and the connection between them. Her breath caught, her eyes sparkled and her cheeks regained a pink glow. It stopped him in his tracks as his mouth dried.

I won’t be able to let her go. Ever.
The thought crashed into him as the agent stepped up to them.

Jessa took a step closer to Galan, the amazement at her recovery now overshadowed by anger in the face of the agent who stood before them. Not that she honestly thought that he would hurt her, but something deep and primal told her she needed to stay close to Galan.

The agent must have seen something in either her or Galan’s face—he stopped. The security officer waited, his shoulders hunched as if ready to act. Jessa slipped closer to Galan who wrapped an arm around her.

“Come. We have work to do.”

Jessa looked up at him in amazement.
Here I am in the middle of the room, with people watching me. What am I doing?
Immediately she pulled away and heard him snicker.

“This way.” He indicated through a small doorway where a table sat and there at the end was Seth.

He smiled broadly on seeing her. She grinned back and made her way to the empty seat beside him. It wouldn’t do to embarrass herself further, she thought ruefully.

Once they had taken their places, she noted Joras, Galan, herself and Seth were joined by two others. She looked at Seth.

He shrugged. “I don’t know who they are.”

A pen and pad waited on the table and she gratefully clutched them, cleared her throat and asked, “So, do we take minutes? And do we know everyone at the table? I don’t know these gentlemen.”

They both turned to stare at her. She wanted to shrink under their silent searching and slightly intimidating gazes.

The older man, wearing spectacles and suit, cleared his throat. “I’m here on behalf of the Prime Minister.”

Jessa waited, looking at him.

He stared back.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. What is your name for the record?”

He leant back and made a steeple with his hands. “My name is Dr Lovejoy. And I am still unaware of how you came to be involved in these negotiations, Miss Bankia.” His haughty tone and steely gaze were no doubt, supposed to make her feel inferior, but a burble of laughter rose in her chest.

Jessa coughed to cover the snorting sound that escaped, forming a small fist with her hand. “Because I am. That’s all you need to know right now.” She grinned, satisfied at the shocked look on his face. “And the man next to you?” She settled once more, the fingers of her other hand cramping as she gripped the pen. She ran the nail of her thumb along the smooth surface.

“Rear Admiral Denton.”

Jessa nodded and jotted down the names. “Right, so where do we begin?”

Galan caught her eye and she noticed the furtive wink he sent her way. Seth kicked her foot under the table hard, and Jessa had to stop the ‘oww’ from escaping.

The meeting progressed slowly. The government pressed for the removal of Seth and Jessa from the working party, Galan blocked it effectively, his voice firm each time it was raised. Joras said little as did Seth and Jessa in the first hours. The government wanted access to their medical systems. Galan smiled, making a sound of non-committal agreement and Jessa smothered a giggle at the dance of politics which continued around her.

They broke after three hours and the two suited men left. Galan released a breath and sat back down after escorting them to the door. “Now we can begin our discussions properly.”

Surprise filled Jessa as she whipped around. “What do you mean?”

“They were not here as members of the official discussion, Jessa. Didn’t they tell you anything while your healers attended to you?”

Jessa shook her head, the swish of hair forming a red curtain around her face. “No. What should I have known?”

“In order to continue the negotiations on this level, we offered to treat a finite number of patients for illnesses and diseases that your own healers had no treatment for.”

She touched her cheeks, feeling the flame.
He’s done this for me?
Then her skin cooled as she turned away from his face, her belly churning.
What does he want from me?
But she already knew. He wanted her body.
To breed children and help repopulate his world.
The thought, unbidden flashed through her mind. Bitter bile rose in her throat.
Surely, he wants more from me?
But she wouldn’t allow herself to be fooled into thinking that she was any more than a means to an end.

She’d already learnt that lesson once. And it had cost her, dearly.

“Fine. Then let’s get busy.” She kept her voice businesslike and firm, taking her seat once more and noted the frown on the faces of the men before her. Galan watched, clearly puzzled before he gave a short nod and sat down opposite her.

He watched. Somewhere between the two men leaving and them sitting down, he’d either done or said something that had changed her mind about him once again. For the life of him, though, he couldn’t work out what it had been and his temper frayed a little more around the edges. Now Jessa sat opposite him, focused on finding some kind of agreement where he could talk to their heads of state. The whole time, her persona was cold and remote once more. Frustration filled him, winding his nerves tighter.

“Fine. I’ll ask for the facility for a teleconference phone. We can patch the Prime Minister in and their office can arrange a venue you find suitable.” She wrote the note on the pad then stood. “I’ll go and request that right now.”

She rose, her movements still a little jerky, as if she expected her leg to buckle under her weight, slight though it was.

Joras laid a comforting hand on his arm. “It grows late and we must return to the ship. Now would be a perfect time to make that request.”

He nearly rolled his eyes at Joras, but knew what he meant. “Jessa, we need to return to our ship. You and Seth would be more than welcome to join us.”

She turned and he could see the indecision on her face. “Well, I don’t…”

“What if we leave and they don’t let us back into the negotiations, Jessa?” Seth wheedled.

Galen wanted to thank the small man opposite him. But that would only anger Jessa. And right now he needed to rebuild the bridges with her that he had destroyed somehow.

She vacillated. Then nodded. “Of course, Seth. That would be a wise thing to do.” Jessa opened the door, spoke briefly in whispers to the man beyond and closed it again. “Right then, we should go to your ship, immediately and reconvene at…say nine a.m.?”

“Of course.” He acceded.

They trooped out of the door and a different male agent slipped into the entourage behind Jessa. Joras would take care of that, or his men, anyway, he thought. Thankful she had at least decided that the offer was no more than indicated. At this point, anyway.

The security detail folded in around them as they headed towards the ship. They had been informed that overnight, the requested conference technology would be installed and the Prime Minister would be involved in the next round of talks via this communication system.

Jessa and Seth would continue acting as the go-between for the two races. She accepted the responsibilities heaped upon her as stoically as possible. He watched the way her eyebrows would crease and how she’d think carefully before answering. It was something he doubted Seth understood or grasped the importance of as he chattered away happily. All those things would come in time, Galan reminded himself. Seth was still young and he wondered at the age of his Jessa. She looked young, yet she carried herself with a dignity many older women would only wish for.

Jessa moved close by his side, and he was reminded by the scene he had watched on the viewer, when she had been hurt. The security team had been thoroughly briefed this time. Jessa was to be afforded the privileges of one of the crew, but in his mind, it seemed more important than ever that she not be spooked with that knowledge. Not yet. He would make sure she knew when the time was right. When he had made the announcement, there had been some odd looks, before everyone had agreed. He didn’t know what Joras had told them afterward, but they accepted the direction without comment—at least to his face.

This time, she was kept to the centre of the group and Galan grasped her hand firmly. Her fingers trembled slightly as she heard distant chanting and shouting.

“Damn protestors.” He heard the words from the agent behind him. Jessa shook harder. He increased the pace of his footsteps. The agent moved closer. Galan spared him a glance, slipping his arm around Jessa and hurried her along. The crowd grew louder, some of the voices tinny and they shoved against the barriers. The sea of people undulated as Jessa, Galan and the detail finally arrived at the eli-pad. They formed a circle on the metallic floor and started ascending just as bodies broke through the fencing.

The crowd ran towards the ship, but he and his people were too high for even the most athletic to reach them. The eli-pad engaged with the ship. Galan let out his pent up breath. Jessa shuddered in his arms.

He turned to his second. “Joras, deal with him”—he pointed to the agent. “And do whatever you must to get rid of them.” He directed Joras’ attention to the scene below the eli-pad.

Joras would know what he meant, but right now, his concern was for Jessa. Carefully they peeled away from the rest of the party as he escorted her to the cabin she’d stayed in previously.

The door opened and he led her inside before pulling her into his arms. She hadn’t spoken a word and that concerned him. “Jessa?”

She seemed to draw support from his careful embrace and he cursed. Then slowly, he pulled her against even more closely him. Wanting only to take in her pain, but the moment their bodies touched, he was fired with need. A current surged between them and she lifted her eyes. “Galan?” Her words were a mere whisper and he strained to hear. “Could you… Would you stay?” She gulped and his chest heated, as did the rest of his body. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

A cold chill had taken control of Jessa’s body the moment the crowd had started chanting. Visions of the altercation when she had been injured had made her fearful. Jessa clung to Galan as the only option in the maelstrom. Even when they were safe aboard the ship, she had been unable to throw off the fear. Instead it roiled within like some whirling dervish.