Qualea Drop (The Spiral Wars #7), page 12
That part of her brain had finally escaped her control, after years of trying. And really, she’d always known it would, if she’d been honest about how far she thought she could push herself. And being who she was, she’d taken that as a challenge, like some of the physical endurance specialists she’d known — like one former marine she’d served with who, after discharge, had gone on to become a Homeworld distance running champion, using military enhancements to run for five days at a time with no sleep, battling through blisters, stress fractures and brain-crushing exhaustion for the sheer thrill of seeing just where the edge of endurance lay. She’d never seen the point of that sort of thing — sports were a fundamentally selfish pursuit, however much fun in the superficial now, and if her goals weren’t in the service of something far larger than her brain’s wailing ego, she didn’t see the point.
So now she knew where that limit was, in herself, at least. She did have emotions, however much she’d tried to repress them, to shape them and make them work toward her conscious purposes. Like a weightlifter snatching a bar with too many kilos, something had snapped, and only now, with the bones protruding, was she forced to admit that it had actually broken.
At the thought, she felt more steady, and breathed more deeply. The first step to fixing the problem was to diagnose the problem. In her previous state of denial, she’d not been able to diagnose because she couldn’t admit the problem existed. She'd thought the denial was necessary to maintain control, but the control had finally snapped, and now that she was here, on this side of a great event, she found it wasn't actually the end of the world. She wouldn't let it be.
“Hey.” She moved a hand, and gently slapped Erik’s cheek. “You’ve got a ship to run.”
“Trace.” He put his forehead against hers. “You have to talk to me. I know you think I’m a bleeding heart who likes to externalise his emotions too much, and you’re probably right. But I’m also the ship’s Captain, and my Marine Commander is broken.” Trace smiled, pain-filled but genuine. Erik looked relieved to see it, but not yet convinced. “Can we at least now admit there’s a problem?”
Trace sighed, and put her head back on his shoulder. “You win. I was wrong.”
“This was never about me winning, Trace.”
“I know. Still true though.” He put his cheek against her ear, and she felt his breath on her neck. That felt good. Too good. “We should stop this.”
“I know.” Neither of them moved. “Inappropriate physical intimacy.”
“Not the first time, either,” she reminded him.
“No. But hugs work, Trace. You agree not to seduce me and we’ll be fine.”
Trace smiled. He was right, of course. Hugs did work, particularly with the people you were closest to in all the world. She could feel it working now, her breathing relaxing, tension fleeing. But these hugs were dangerous, because if there was one man on this ship with whom this recipe for psychological improvement could turn into something else…
“Your mother will have some nice girl lined up for you once we get home,” Trace ventured. “Someone with a double-barrelled name, and her hair in plaits.”
Erik lightly punched her arm. “Cliches are beneath you. It’s actually going to be hard to adjust to normal women again, after all this time in Fleet.”
“The women you grew up with were never normal,” Trace instructed calmly. She’d had this conversation with Lisbeth enough times to be sure. “They were filthy rich, wore heels to breakfast and had names like Holly and Su Li that no normal girl has.”
“My Navigation Officer on UFS Firebird was Holly.”
“And where did she grow up?”
Erik thought about it. “Her Daddy owned Pressenth Station,” he conceded.
“Spacer bridge crew,” said Trace, as though that explained it. Which it did, kind of, with somewhere close to half of them.
“Trace? I want you to know that when we get home, if we get home, you’ll always be family to my family. With everything that means.”
Trace thought about it. It sounded for a moment dangerously like a proposal for something that he knew damn well she could never accept. But then she recalled the Kulina, her supposed ‘other’ family, who had sworn to kill her as soon as she once again came within range.
“I mean that we have an awful lot of security, and an awful lot of lawyers,” Erik continued. “And whatever ends up happening with us vis-a-vis Fleet itself, anyone trying to get you will have to get through all of us first.”
Trace opened her mouth to reply, but Erik indicated his ear to show he was uplinked. “Yeah,” he said to whoever was calling, “tell them five minutes.”
“Erik,” said Trace. “Let me tell Fleet about Vieno. If that Splicer data ends up amounting to anything, all of humanity’s going to owe the corbi.”
Erik gazed at her. “Trace, you’re the last person who needs the difference between morality and survival explained to them. You’re right, I went out of my way to help the corbi. It was the right thing to do, and as it turned out, it even helped the human cause as well. But you’re asking for something else.”
“Erik.” She didn’t try to cover the emotion this time. Just looked at him, with all the tear-streaked manipulation she could muster. But the emotion was real, and it was simply what she felt. With the one person, perhaps in all the universe, with whom she could let that show. “Please.”
Erik sighed. Trace knew what he was thinking. That Fleet HQ, however grateful for the Splicer data, would never forget the implication that any such data was conditional on favours. One either declared that one would pay any price for the survival of humanity, or one didn’t. Whatever his compassion for the corbi, it was a principle that Erik agreed with wholeheartedly. Humanity’s precarious position in the galaxy was what it was. But so was Rando’s.
“I'll allow it,” he said finally. “I’d do anything for you, Trace. Don’t abuse it.” He kissed her on the forehead, and left.
7
Lisbeth emerged into the Alei'sei courtyard beneath the drooping fronds of a tree. The temple building at the far side was Juneso's, granted to him as the highest ranking of this parren delegation. A tall shrine-stone with Kul'hasa inscription stood before the tree, which showered thin leaves upon white snow in a gust of chill wind.
Juneso stood waiting, Captain Tocamo of Coroset to one side, several of their security and lesser ranks forming the flanks. Lisbeth was not surprised, having these days by far the best internal intelligence network at any level of parren governance, and walked in her red robe along the courtyard path recently swept of snow. Timoshene walked before her, black robe tucked up about his gunbelt, a new addition in alien territories that the croma, warriors themselves, did not protest.
He took position on Lisbeth's left as she stopped precisely before Juneso, and performed the expected slight bow. "You requested my attendance, Ambassador Juneso?"
Juneso wore the pragmatic, loose pants and vest of a military man on a diplomatic mission, beneath a formal, heavy coat. He was well into his third-life, having been an accomplished young architect while phased to House Creative. Nearly fifty years ago, he'd phased to House Fortitude, losing all desire for architecture and joining the Fortitude Fleet, where he'd risen to Admiral. A second phase to House Harmony had seen him join the Tookrah Denomination, where he'd become an advisor on military and diplomatic affairs to Tookrah leader Anesol. Since Gesul of Domesh Denomination had risen to total power, and seen fit to unify the Harmony denominations by promoting senior figures from amongst them to cabinet ministries and advisory positions, he'd selected Juneso to command this mission to visit the croma, and unite the newly emerged drysines with their queen on the UFS Phoenix. The appointment had pleased many in House Harmony, even as it displeased more amongst the Domesh who felt that some favouritism was owed to members of Gesul's own clan.
"Lisbeth," said Juneso. His tone was calm, fingers clasped lightly behind his back. Lean, red-brown features, weathered with age the treatments could no longer hide. His sharp indigo eyes barely blinked. "I have attended a meeting with Sho'mo'ra. He informed me that Phoenix's Rando Splicer data would only be shared with parren should this party join with the croma invasion fleet in the evacuation of corbi on Rando. Were you aware?"
"Ambassador Juneso," said Lisbeth, with just the correct formal tense, "you have only now made me aware of this."
Juneso gazed at her for a moment longer. The array of seven parren, standing armed and formal, three to each of their commander's flanks, left no doubt as to what sort of meeting this was. Timoshene had not been pleased that he alone would represent her security, but had bowed to Lisbeth's insistence. Sometimes the best way to look strong was to risk vulnerability.
"This is a new problem," Juneso continued. "When we arrived at Dul'rho, I was assured by Sho'mo'ra's people that there would be no issue with Splicer data. Our losses from Mylor Station were acknowledged, with sympathy. Now this position is changed, to the parren's disadvantage. Do you know how this has occurred?"
"Forgive me, Juneso," said Lisbeth. "But the technology of the Splicer was never a gift from the croma to the parren, it was a gift granted from the blood and sacrifice of the corbi people, beneath the leadership of the greatest warrior of the Spiral, Major Thakur of the Phoenix. I do not know how this development occurred, as I am not privy to the inner workings of the croma leadership, nor the mind of Sho'mo'ra. But I will be pleased to honour the corbi who have suffered so much to bring us this great gift, and to grant them a great gift in return."
She did not meet Juneso's stare too directly -- in parren etiquette it could be a deadly mistake. She merely kept her eyes focused unworriedly on the door of the temple building behind his head. There was a silence in the courtyard. Lisbeth knew that she was playing a dangerous game. But best, for sure, that Juneso knew that the danger lay mostly for himself.
"I shall attempt to reason further with Sho'mo'ra," Juneso said after a moment. "Gesul's instructions are that we will not fight the croma's war. The parren shall not make war upon the reeh. Perhaps you did not hear these instructions, Lisbeth Debogande?"
"I did hear them, Juneso. Clearly this is not a mission to make war upon the reeh, it is a mission to evacuate the corbi. Gesul's primary instruction in directing us to croma space was to assist the drysines in reuniting with their queen, and to seek all benefit to the parren people against the threats of alien technologies that threaten us. To that end, the corbi have made this gift from the Rando Splicer. Honour dictates that we must repay the corbi in kind. And now, diplomacy dictates that the continuation of good relations with the croma dictates it as well."
"Only Gesul can authorise an act of war upon another species," Juneso insisted.
"You must act to serve Gesul and the parren people how you think is best, Juneso," said Lisbeth. "I am confident that were Gesul here, he would order the assistance of the corbi at Rando, given that this is no act of war but rather an act of mercy, and given that it now appears to be the only way to attain the benefit of protective technologies from the Splicer that is our truest mission. If you decide to leave aboard Coroset, I will stay with Liala and the Amity, and assist the corbi evacuation with them."
"The Amity is a drysine ship," Juneso said with faint disbelief. "It has no atmospheric quarters suitable for organics."
"Liala has assured me that the drysines can find a way. Now, if that is the end of this matter, I must return to my work."
"Lisbeth," Hiro told her that evening at dinner in Porgesh, "this action is inadequate."
"No," Lisbeth corrected him in English. "You said ainsleth anat toshene, 'this action is inadequate'. You mean ainsleth anaho mevash, 'this action was improper'."
She ate some more of her meal -- croma food, some sort of meat with vegetables, simple and good in the way of these no-fuss people. The parren sat about her and Hiro on mats, effortless in that lean, crosslegged way of their kind, eating off ledu, low tables brought from Coroset for the purpose. A fireplace crackled behind a grille that kept the spitting, popping coals from burning the patterned carpet on the tile floor. Much of the room's interior was wooden beams and simple decoration. Lisbeth knew that it was an accident that the Alei'sei suited House Harmony parren so well, yet it did not stop the parren from gaining an unexpectedly positive view of their coarse, less-refined hosts.
Skah sat between her and Hiro, eating his meat and following the conversation with the help of an earpiece. Lisbeth had expected him to get bored with this conversation, as he often had with other adult discussions in his presence, but somewhere in the nearly-a-year since she'd seen him last, he'd acquired the ability to tell if a discussion were important or not.
"Fine," Hiro said drily, still in Porgesh. He was very fluent considering less than a year's practise, yet not nearly as fluent as Lisbeth. "This action was improper. Am I understood?" The latter remark could have gotten lower-ranked parren killed, in some houses. Mostly because a parren would never make such a mistake, and all would know the insolence intentional. With Hiro, Lisbeth's staff had learned to make allowances for human inadequacies.
Lisbeth smiled. "You are understood, Hiro. I don't particularly care about Juneso's issues right now, I'd much rather discuss deployments with Liala." Liala sat outside on the verandah, oblivious, she said, to the cold. More to the point, these temple doorways were awkward for a drysine's wide legs. As a security deterrent to any possible threat, there weren't many better, even if she had left her enormous anti-armour cannon on Coroset's shuttle.
"But you can't ignore Juneso," Hiro insisted. "He knows what you did."
"And what did I do, Hiro?" Lisbeth fixed him with a pointed stare. Hiro wore a human-fitting version of a parren warrior's plain vest and light coat, weapons in his preferred shoulder holster, AR glasses currently raised on his head. If Timoshene was Lisbeth's close protection muscle, Hiro was her Intelligence, making certain that she was always informed of possible threats. With his utilisation of many drysine technologies unavailable to other parren, the combined security coverage made her a very hard target indeed.
"You told Sho'mo'ra to tell Juneso he wouldn't get the Splicer data unless we help at Rando." He waited a moment for Lisbeth to correct his Porgesh. Lisbeth cut some more steak instead. "Juneso was right, Sho'mo'ra had no issue with it before." About the small dinner circle, Semaya, Neyafa and Shonteel all gazed at her, wordlessly.
Lisbeth sighed. "There will be no delay in receiving the data. A croma ship will be sent to Gesul immediately, as soon as Juneso agrees. A fast messenger ship. There will be no disadvantage to the parren."
"So why, then?"
"Because the croma are going to need our help," Lisbeth said shortly. "Because the reeh are very advanced, and because saving the corbi is a worthy cause, particularly considering what they've done for parren, for humans, and for the entire Spiral with the Splicer data."
"These sound like the reasons of a nice girl with good intentions," Hiro said warningly. "Not like the reasons of a warleader."
The three parren watched wordlessly. Skah watched them all, back and forth. Semaya was Lisbeth's personal Chief of Staff, but on this mission she'd not brought many staff with her. They were needed for the interface between her advisory office and Gesul's ever-growing administration at the highest level of parren government. Out here, she needed only Semaya, as her primary advisor on the ways of parren governance, plus Nefaya and Shonteel as her personal aides. Timoshene and his security staff of six were about here somewhere, watching tirelessly.
"Gesul requested personal strategic knowledge of the reeh-croma confrontation," spoke several disembodied microphones from various personal electronic devices at once. That was Liala, listening in, and not requiring face-to-face contact to participate in conversation. There were small cameras here too, doubtless she could watch on those. "The croma have data, but it is a different thing to assess such things in person, with drysine instruments. Coroset will not be conducting direct combat operations against reeh vessels. Reeh vessels will likely not even recognise your type. Identifications can be faked. Furthermore, rescuing the corbi will be seen by the Spiral as a good deed. The Parren Empire has little goodwill among non-parren people because it has so rarely engaged with them. The time is approaching when goodwill becomes a strategic asset. This one act will gain much, for little cost. Lisbeth's reasoning is sound."
Lisbeth nodded with satisfaction, and ate her steak. Hiro looked sourly unconvinced. The three parren remained noncommittal. All knew very well how hard it was to argue with the logic of a drysine queen. Which was precisely what Hiro didn't like, Lisbeth knew.
"That's wonderful," said Hiro. "But, and Semaya may correct me if I'm wrong, my guess is that Juneso may now consider you a liability to his mission, and a threat to his own personal power. You have demonstrated that Sho'mo'ra will listen to you and not to him, and will act against him on your request. To a man appointed as ambassador, this is humiliating."
Semaya inclined her hairless head, elegant as always. "It is possible, Hiro. Security will be an ongoing concern."
"I have faith in my security," said Lisbeth, with an edge. With a pointed stare at Hiro. Hiro gazed back, warily. Seeing, perhaps, that she was truly past caring what parren politics had to say about it. And that if Juneso wanted to threaten her life, and died for it, then it wouldn't bother her at all.
