Starkissed (28 page)

Stiffly, he held out his arm to her and she saw that he had removed his glove. The cool Artilian temperature must be uncomfortable for him. The three Zi behind him frowned and one muttered gutturally. J’Qhir replied sharply and briefly in his own language.

Leith looked at his hand, a hand that had held her breast but didn’t know what to do with it…a hand that had explored her intimately and knew exactly what to do. She laid her fingers over his. Their eyes met again, his unblinking. Then she turned and smiled for the cams. Lights flashed and their images were instantly transported over a hundred LinkNet channels to over a thousand worlds.

Questions were thrown at them, so many, so quickly, she couldn’t understand one from another. All the while, her fingers lay lightly upon his and his trembled beneath hers. She attributed it to the chill in the room. She wanted to squeeze his fingers, to let him know somehow that what she had said was wrong, but she was too scared to move and afraid whatever she did he would misinterpret again.

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Starkissed

163

Then his hand was gone from hers.

She looked around to find him disappearing into the throng, trailing behind the Council. She reached for Drew.

“Get me out of here now,” she whispered between gritted teeth.

Drew hustled her past the reporters, beyond dignitaries and ambassadors. They threaded their way through a sea of beings until Drew stopped short. Two Artilian watchers, who acted as security, stood beside an unmarked door. While Drew spoke to one, Leith frantically searched the floor. No sign of J’Qhir or any of the Zi. Where had they taken him? What would they do to him? Would the Council consider their hands touching a transgression? Would they
punish
J’Qhir for allowing, even encouraging, the picture taking?

As the reporters descended once again, Drew grabbed Leith’s arm and pulled her through the door. They walked down a corridor and Drew opened a door to one side.

“The security guard said you will be unmolested here—that’s the word he used. Do you want something, Leith? Something to eat or drink?”

The thought of food made her sick, but she agreed to water and Drew left to get some.

The room was small, its walls colored a soothing pale blue, and muted lighting. The only furnishings were a table and several chairs and a divan. Leith paced a few minutes, then burst into tears and collapsed on the divan.

She had to get control of herself before Drew returned. Oh, what had she done! She should not have called him Commander at that moment. She should have said his name in answer to his using her own. But she was frightened of how the Council of Elders might retaliate if they suspected something improper between them. Of course, she would choose the wrong thing to do.

It would always be so. Why would she ever think she could be competent in anything she did or said? She had failed as she had failed in so many things before.

Except in loving him with all her heart and soul.

Perhaps she should perform the Zi failure ritual that she had stopped J’Qhir from carrying out.

Slowly, the door opened. Leith hastily wiped at her eyes. She wished she didn’t have to face Drew in this condition, but if he hadn’t figured it out by now, he never would. She looked up to find a hooded Biian monk closing the door behind him.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, “but you have the wrong room.”

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164

Lanette

Curington

Biian monks took their vows of silence so seriously they had their vocal chords surgically altered so they wouldn’t utter a sound. This monk shook his head negatively so that his whole body moved from side to side.

“This is my room. If you’ll go back to the watchers, they’ll give you—”

“I have the right room, Leith,” a familiar voice said from the depths of the cowl, then he lifted his hands and drew back the folds of cloth around his head.

“
Steve!
” Leith choked on the name. “How— You’re dead. J’Qhir blew your ship to stardust.”

“I was never aboard that ship,” Steve explained. “I created the illusion of being there.

I was on another ship, transmitting my image to your ship via the
Brimstone
. The Rep blew Carter and Phillips to stardust, not me.”

Leith made a dash for the door, but Steve caught her and held a Blaser to her neck.

“Blasting you this close, I’ll lose a few atoms but don’t think I won’t do it.”

“What are you doing, Steve?”

“Revenge for everything you and the Rep have cost me. I can’t get to the Rep, but killing you and his unholy spawn will be enough.”

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in, but they still didn’t make much sense. “His
what?
What are you talking about?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? When Carter scanned the
Starfire,
it read six lifeforms. Drew, the two Reps, the birdman, and you. That left one unaccounted for. The only answer is you’re carrying his half-breed bastard. Let me be the first to congratulate you,” he snarled.

A child! Leith would have dropped to her knees if Steve hadn’t been holding onto her. A child…she thought numbly as Steve pulled out another robe. Woodenly, she allowed him to slip the sleeves over her arms and draw up the hood.

Not stress or nerves. It explained her nausea and why her monthly cycle was overdue. Stress or malnutrition or excessive physical strain—she’d come up with a dozen sensible reasons. And the one, burning in the back of her mind, the one she thought impossible because of their physiological differences, the creation of a child, was the answer.

Steve jabbed her with the Blaser again, pressing the heavy material into her neck.

“Drew will be back any minute.”

“No, he won’t. I’ve taken care of him.”

“You didn’t—”

“No, I didn’t. I left an emergency message for him to contact McClure Shipping. It will take him a while to get a free line because of the media.”

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Starkissed

165

She had to stall for time.
Where there’s life, there’s hope
, J’Qhir had reminded her so long ago when Steve had incarcerated them on the
Catherine McClure.
If she had only herself to consider, she wouldn’t go with Steve and dare him to blast her where she stood.

She’d lost J’Qhir to his dedication and her own incompetence, she would have nothing more to lose.

Except now she knew she carried a baby—J’Qhir’s child—and she couldn’t risk that life. Even if the probability factor was high that Steve had lied for his own malicious purposes, the baby, however slight the chance of its existence, came first.

“What are you going to do with me? Whatever it is, you can’t get away with it.”

“I’m going to kill you, Leith, for the universe to see. I don’t intend to get away with it. Everything is spoiled now. All I can do is make sure the Rep suffers.”

“But why?”

“Why not?” Steve opened the door and checked to see if the corridor was clear. He pushed her through the door. “Remember, Leith, I have the Blaser on you at all times.

And if you make me use it, I will take as many Artilians as I can as well.”

Leith allowed herself to be herded along.
Where there’s life, there’s hope.
Maybe Steve would exact his revenge in front of the universe, but Leith felt that every moment alive was one moment closer to rescue. Drew had to be alive, tricked as Steve said. Drew would be her salvation somehow.

Steve pushed her through the door at the other end of the corridor, into a dimly lit back hallway.

Hurry, Drew
, Leith thought as Steve led her deeper behind the Great Hall.

”””

The Council of Elders led J’Qhir away from the unrelenting reporters, the flashing cams, and Leith. He had wanted to twine his fingers around hers and take her with him.

Find a place where they could be alone. So many things he wanted to ask her, tell her, do to her.

Now was not the time. The three Council Elders of the Bh’rin’gha, disgruntled by his seeming disregard for the situation, despised him for bringing such garish attention to Zi—as if he had a choice in the matter. They acted as if he engineered this entire plot to put himself and his people in the spotlight. Sss’t!

The Zi were now forced to
mingle
with other-worlders, and the Council of three felt this was an atrocity committed against their people in general and themselves in particular. The Zi did not mingle socially, politically, or personally.

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166

Lanette

Curington

Only half-listening to Elder M’bat`h awkwardly answer a question posed by an Elder from the Lhaàwh Council, J’Qhir maneuvered his body around, positioning himself where he could see the greater part of the Hall. In doing so, he turned his leg wrong and the familiar dull throb started up once again. He eased most of his weight to the other leg.

His amber eyes flicked over the crowd of beings in search of one in particular. He could not find her now. The same group of reporters had rallied around a side door, guarded by two Artilians. Had she gone in there?

Suddenly, he was aware the Elder of Lhaàwh as well as the three Elders of Bh’rin’gha had turned their attention to him. They watched him expectantly, as if they awaited his profound answer.

He had no inkling what they had asked of him.

Bowing slightly, he murmured in Zi, “Beg forgiveness…”

Bodies pressed close to him as he threaded his way toward the door. He walked slowly, mindful not to aggravate his injury. What he really wanted to do was charge through, find Leith, and leave all this unpleasantness behind.

Would she come with him? Did she want to be with him again? Some of the questions he needed to ask but didn’t know how. Deserted on a planet, no one but the two of them, was one thing. Now, they were back in the middle of civilization. She could return to her Earth and continue the life she regretted leaving behind. Perhaps she had no desire to ever be with him again.

Could he bear it if her answer was no?

By the time he had progressed halfway across the room, the reporters had dispersed, looking for a new target. He steadily made his way toward the door, careful to avoid any of them. If they caught him alone, they would try to pry knowledge out of him. Or admission of something. Hadn’t some of the questions he’d heard before the Elders led him away aimed at delving into what sort of relationship he and Leith had maintained during their stay on Paradise? How could they inquire into a situation of such a delicate nature?

They could not
know
, but they suspected the truth. Did the Elders suspect also? Was leading him away at that moment to keep him from admitting the truth? Did they truly expect him to lay bare his privacy, and Leith’s as well, before strangers eager for a hint of scandal?

Yet, he could not speak falsely. Truth was a tenet of his culture and position, but he also could not deny what passed between Leith and him. He would not dishonor what they had shared.

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Two of the reporters caught sight of him, just as he approached the Artilian guards.

He tilted his head, indicating the beings now heading toward him. He spoke in Terran Standard. “Isss there sssomeplace…”

The Artilian nodded his understanding. “These are privacy rooms. When you enter the corridor, the second room on the right is empty.”

J’Qhir bowed his head in gratitude. The other guard had opened the door, and he slipped inside as the reporters, now joined by a few others, were stopped by the guards.

The door slid shut behind him.

Sweet silence.

He leaned back against the door, relieving his bad knee of all pressure. The dull throb lessened only slightly. The medical technician had been correct on several counts.

He should have brought a walking staff with him, and he should have rested the knee a few days longer before attempting any length of time on his feet. He would need surgery after all.

J’Qhir had declined surgery because recovery would have kept him bedridden. He would have missed the conference…and seeing Leith. The technician had supplied him with a staff he discarded before entering the Hall. The Council had looked upon its use with contempt. Physical impairment in one Zi, however temporary, could be construed by others as a sign of weakness in Zi as a whole.

He hissed and pushed away from the door. Leith was in one of these rooms, but which one? Unless he pounded on each in turn, he had no way of knowing. He disliked the thought of invading anyone else’s privacy, but he knew no other way. He could stand in the corridor until Leith emerged, but she might not return to the Hall until time for the conference, which was over a standard hour away. His knee would not allow him to stand that length of time.

He limped a few steps toward the first door on the right. Fresh sparks of pain shot up his thigh. One thoughtless twist had completely undone two standard days of rest and medication.

J’Qhir took a few more halting steps and raised his fist to knock when another door, the third on the left, opened. Drew Garrison emerged, and J’Qhir quickly dropped his hand.

“Warrior,” Garrison acknowledged him with a nod and smile, but briskly walked past him and disappeared through the door at the end of the corridor.

At least he would not embarrass himself and his people. He now knew which one contained Leith. He was almost even with the second rooms when the corridor door www.samhainpublishing.com

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opened once again. A Biian monk, robed and cowled, stepped inside. The monk paused stiffly when he became aware of J’Qhir’s presence.

J’Qhir said nothing since Biian monks did not speak. Patiently, he waited for the monk to find his appointed room. Before the monk could move, once again the corridor door opened and the Council of Elders of the Bh’rin’gha filed in. The monk swiftly stepped aside, then halted again.