Читать книгу The Morcai Battalion: The Pursuit - Diana Palmer - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT MORNING, Jasmine was almost floating on a cloud, anticipating the afternoon with Mekashe. She went through her closet, looking for something pretty enough to wear for him that was also casual.

She could have gone to the boutique for another outfit, but she hesitated to run her parent into more debt, especially in the early days of his new, lucrative profession. So she settled for a pair of long pants, jeans they were called, in some knotty fabric that was wispy and cool, and a button-up blouse with short sleeves. The jeans were blue, a dark color, and the blouse was white with a blue pattern. The well-fitting garments gave her an even more youthful look, especially with her hair down, but age had never been a problem with Mekashe. She supposed it didn’t matter to him, any more than his, whatever it might be, mattered to her. At that, he looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Older than her, but not by that much. Feelings, she decided, were far more important than minor details.

She relived those kisses all night long and barely slept. She loved the warm, hard touch of his mouth, the hunger and passion she sensed in him. She wondered what would come next in their relationship. Whatever it was, she knew that it was leading to something permanent. He’d mentioned children, not something a man with a casual passion in mind would care about. She thought of children with black hair and eyes that changed color to mirror moods, and she was fascinated. Her children would be unique.

She knew that Dr. Madeline Ruszel had bonded with a Cehn-Tahr and had two children. She wished she could access more information about the woman on the Nexus, but it was impossible. Apparently the Cehn-Tahr were secretive about any part of their culture. Mekashe had told her as much.

She laid out her outfit and wished she had an excuse to crash the chess match, to see Mekashe again. But it would look contrived. No, best to let him have his time alone with her father. It was important that they liked each other.

* * *

AMBASSADOR DUPONT WAS distracted as they played. Mekashe wondered why. He was reluctant to bring it up, but it concerned him.

“Jasmine is looking forward to the picnic,” the older man said with a smile, melting his companion’s concern. “She’s spending the morning picking out just the right clothing to wear.” He glanced up from the chessboard. “She said that you were less than enthusiastic about the swimming party.”

Mekashe grimaced. “We consider such things indiscreet.” His solemn blue eyes met those of the ambassador. “Our culture is quite pristine.”

“I know.” The other man hesitated. “The head of our service shared a few facts with me, about your culture, things he thought were important enough to tell me before I arrived on Memcache.”

Mekashe sat back. His eyes studied the other man. “That was wise. It will help you to adjust. But it may be more difficult for Jasmine, especially since she has been so sheltered from alien races.”

“My fault. And I wish there were time to remedy it.” He sighed. “There were no holos, you understand. We aren’t permitted to share such things on the Nexus, even in our diplomatic service. I know that the Cehn-Tahr are even more careful about such things than we are. That was why you offered to give Jasmine the capture on a device, rather than flash it to her for the Tri-D reconstituter, yes?”

“Yes.” He reached into a pocket and handed the capture device to the ambassador with a smile. “I will let you keep it for her, until we return from the holoroom.” He didn’t add that the giving and acceptance of a gift was a notorious trigger for the mating cycle. It was much too soon for that to happen.

“I’ll do that.” The ambassador pocketed it. “The differences between our species seem wider than I first realized.”

“I’m afraid they are.” Mekashe’s face was solemn. “And we are careful about any information we expose on the Nexus. We never publicize details of our political, military or religious protocols, much less the names of those who serve.”

The professor hesitated over a move. He still looked troubled.

Mekashe didn’t need to read his mind to understand why. “You were told that we are not quite as we appear in public,” he said after a minute.

The ambassador’s hand jerked just faintly, the only outward sign of his concern. “Well, yes.” He looked up. “Is it a great difference, or are you allowed to tell me even that much?”

Mekashe smiled. “Your status allows you to know more than a private citizen. I cannot elaborate. But, yes, the differences would be apparent, especially to a sheltered female.” He frowned. “I would hope that it wouldn’t matter a great deal.”

“You don’t have tentacles or two heads...?” It was a joke.

Mekashe chuckled. “Certainly not.”

The ambassador sighed. “I don’t mean to pry,” he told his companion. “It makes no difference to me. I’m quite familiar with alien races through my research. My daughter, however, has never even seen a Rojok up close. They’re said to share some traits with Cehn-Tahr, but they’re very human looking.”

Mekashe was solemn. “I’m afraid that we are far different than Rojoks.” He glanced at the human. “I would never harm her,” he added quietly. “She has already become...precious to me.”

Ambassador Dupont smiled faintly. “I believe that feeling is very much reciprocated. Inevitably, however, you will have to tell her the truth.”

“I realize that.” Mekashe’s eyes had a faraway look and he frowned. “But we have still a long voyage ahead of us,” he said finally, smiling, “and the need for total honesty is not yet urgent.”

Ambassador Dupont nodded. His smile was nostalgic. “I found my wife wandering in a garden on Trimerius, when I was in military intelligence,” he said, smiling at the memory. “She was enthusing over a sunflower plant to a very bored young man. I stepped in and marveled at the flower and she found an excuse to send the other man back to his command.” He chuckled. “I’m no fan of flowers, but I learned to love them as much as she did.” His face saddened. “She’s been gone for five years, and I still grieve. She was fragile. I didn’t protest when she wanted to go on a rescue mission with a group of other physicians. The transport crashed and all hands were lost.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So was I. Jasmine took it very hard. It’s just the two of us. I have no other family and Martha was an only child, as well, of older parents who predeceased her.”

“Your bonded consort was a physician?”

He nodded. He studied the alien curiously. “Do you have family? Or am I permitted to ask such a personal question on such short acquaintance?”

“My family is sparse,” Mekashe replied. “My father was career military. My mother was in diplomatic service. They were lost in...” He started to say “in the Great Galaxy War,” but that might shock the human, who had no real concept of the life span of the Cehn-Tahr. The Great Galaxy War ended decades ago. “They were lost in a regional conflict,” he amended. “I have cousins, and what you would call a great-uncle.” He meant the emperor, but he couldn’t tell that to an outworlder. “But no close family.”

“Yet in your society, Clan is life itself,” Dupont said gently.

Mekashe smiled. “Yes. We consider that Clan is more important than any personal consideration. We live and die to bring it honor, to spare it from shame.”

“It’s a difficult concept, for humans.”

“I understand. You have family, which is akin to Clan. However, our complex social makeup will be difficult for you to comprehend. A tutor may be required. It is dangerous to say or do anything that gives offense to any Clan, but most especially to the Royal Clan. Even a criticism spoken out of turn may give offense, and there are grave consequences.”

“I’ll adjust, I’m sure. It’s just...I worry about Jasmine.” He smiled apologetically. “She’s impulsive, as you already know, and she often speaks out of turn.”

“I cannot imagine that such a kind and gentle person could ever offend in any way,” he replied. “She has grace and beauty, but it is her empathy and compassion which make her so remarkable. I have seen the combination very rarely in my life.”

“Thank you. I’ve done my best with her. So did her mother, who loved her greatly. Martha, however, was frequently absent, due to the rigors of her profession. She discouraged Jasmine from following in her footsteps, even disparaging medical work around her. She said that Jasmine was too fragile and far too squeamish to ever fit in a surgical ward. I have to agree.”

“Sometimes our strengths only appear under provocation,” Mekashe remarked. “Often it is turmoil rather than calm which heralds them.”

“Truly spoken. Are you certain that you want to move that pawn?” he added with pursed lips and twinkling eyes. “It might have consequences.”

Mekashe, who’d been listening rather than concentrating, saw immediately what the older man meant and chuckled. He moved his hand to a bishop instead. “You very nearly had me there. If only you hadn’t spoken,” he added drily. “Checkmate, I believe.”

“I believe in fairness, and I’m hopelessly honest,” Dupont replied with a sigh. “I fear it may involve me in controversy one day. I don’t prevaricate well. I’m told that this is almost a requirement in diplomatic work, of which I have no practical experience.”

“Honesty is a hallmark of our culture,” Mekashe replied. “It will stand you in good stead with the emperor, I assure you. He values nothing more.”

“What is he like?” Dupont asked. “I mean, is he fair? Is he even-tempered?”

“He is kind until circumstances provoke him to be otherwise” was the reply. “I have found him to be of a rather mild temperament on most occasions.”

Dupont was silent, contemplating his next move. “I think that you might be involved somehow in your government, Mekashe.”

The alien’s eyes twinkled green. “You know that I can neither confirm nor deny that suspicion.”

Dupont chuckled. “Yes. I know.” He sat back, shaking his head. “Well, that’s another match lost. I don’t seem to improve, do I?”

“You attack without contemplation,” Mekashe said, and not unkindly.

“It’s said that one of my ancestors knew only one form of combat—charging straight at the enemy. Perhaps I’m like that, as well.”

“It can be an effective strategy. Unless your opponent is equally minded.”

“Noted.” He moved his captured pieces back onto the board. “Do you have time for another game?”

“One more,” he replied. “Then it will be time to escort Jasmine to the holoroom. I thought perhaps she might enjoy the fauna and flora on Eridanus Six,” he added. “It has exotic wildlife, as well.”

“Oh dear,” the other man began.

Mekashe chuckled. “I’m quite familiar with the tech used in Tri-D reproductions,” he said. “In fact, I know the engineer on board who programs these. He is a Rojok, and a friend of long acquaintance. The wildlife will not be dangerous. There are protocols written into the biological software to prevent any injury. Nevertheless, I promise you that I will let nothing harm her.”

“You know, even humans are familiar with the Holconcom and its reputation for fearlessness,” Dupont replied. “I assume that most Cehn-Tahr males are equally competent at self-defense. Even diplomats.” His eyebrows rose.

He was insinuating that Mekashe was involved in diplomatic service. It was amusing that he mentioned the Holconcom, to which Mekashe had belonged before his appointment as captain of the emperor’s Imperial Guard. The human could have no idea of that, of course, because the roster of Cehn-Tahr military units was never disclosed. It was an odd sort of coincidence, just the same.

“I can assure you that I have no fear of native wildlife on any planet, and that I would defend Jasmine with my life.”

The ambassador seemed to relax as he rearranged his chess pieces.

* * *

JASMINE WAS ALMOST dancing with joy as they entered the holoroom. “I can’t wait!” she exclaimed. “It’s truly a reproduction of a real alien planet, with alien life-forms?” she asked.

Mekashe chuckled. “It truly is.”

She hesitated. “No cats?” she asked worriedly.

His heart skipped a beat. “Why do you ask?”

She grimaced. “It’s just, well, a friend of Daddy’s kept big cats as pets on Terravega.” She didn’t notice Mekashe’s expression of concern, quickly concealed. “One of them scratched me rather badly. I’ve been afraid of them ever since.”

He paused and turned toward her, his eyes a solemn blue. “I can assure you that most felines are friendly. Few ever attack humans.”

“Well, galots do, don’t they?”

His eyebrows arched.

She laughed self-consciously. “I’ve been reading about them, on the Nexus. I couldn’t find any vid captures... Why are you laughing?” she added curiously.

“Of all felines, those are by far the most dangerous. There are no vid captures because researchers are terrified to go near Eridanus Three.”

“Why?”

“Galots eat them.”

Her face paled. “Really? They really eat people?”

He grimaced. “Only those who trespass,” he amended. “I know one who is quite fond of humans. He frequently visits the emperor’s son and his bonded mate.”

“I see.” She wasn’t smiling. In fact, she wrapped her arms around her slender body and hesitated. “There aren’t any galots in there...?” she asked, indicating the glorious tropical forest that lay ahead of them on a stone walkway.

He turned to her. “Jasmine, I would never let anything harm you. Anything!”

She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. He was already dear to her. “I’m sorry. I’m behaving like a child, I know. It’s just...I’ve never seen alien creatures. There were holozoos on Terravega, but I never liked the idea of seeing creatures in cages, not even virtual ones.”

He smiled. “Nor I.”

“It’s only cats,” she added, wondering silently why he seemed so perturbed at her fear of felines. “I don’t mind other animals. Well, I’m scared of snakes, too.” She hesitated. “Lots of people are nervous around cats,” she added. She shivered. “I overheard Daddy talking to another professor, several years ago, about your government’s commando force, the Hol...Hol...” She searched for the word.

“Holconcom,” he finished for her.

“Yes. That. Anyway, the professor said that they had a terrifying reputation. That your emperor once led them, and that they conquered other species by—” she swallowed, hard “—eating their enemies.”

He seemed to pale, just a little. Her revulsion was truly unexpected, as was her fear of cats. Both could have grave consequences, down the road.

“I’m sorry,” she said, noticing his consternation. “I don’t mean to give offense. I’m just repeating what I heard.” She hesitated. “Is it true?”

He managed a stiff smile. “Jasmine, I’m not permitted to discuss intimate characteristics of my people with outworlders. Even charming outworlders.”

“Oh.” She flushed. “I’m sorry. I just open my mouth and blurt out things. You aren’t angry?” she added worriedly.

Angry, no. Uneasy, yes. He saw his dreams of a future with her going up in smoke, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Her fear of cats was going to cause problems, especially if and when she learned the truth about the shape-shifting Cehn-Tahr and their true form.

“I’m not angry,” he assured her.

“But I’ve made you sad,” she said, frowning. She winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the afternoon...!”

“You haven’t,” he said convincingly. He studied her beautiful face and the sadness passed. There would be obstacles, certainly. But she could overcome her fear. She’d get to know him, get to care for him, and the differences wouldn’t matter. He was certain of it.

She went close. One small hand touched the center of his chest and lingered there. “You must tell me if I give offense,” she said softly, her pale blue eyes probing his. “I wouldn’t hurt you for anything in the world.”

“Nor would I hurt you,” he said huskily.

She reached up and touched his hard mouth curiously. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” she whispered. “You’re so different. And yet I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.”

He framed her face in his big hands. “I feel exactly the same.”