The Caphenon

  “Of course I am. Do you have any idea what a gift you’ve already given me? Tyrees allowing a Sharing outside the bonding ceremony?”

  “I know how rare it is,” Lhyn said. “But I also know that you can’t relax into it, because you’re always holding up your blocks. We want to get it right this time, so you can enjoy it the way we do.”

  Tal looked from one to the other, desperate for a reason to say no and unable to think of one that wouldn’t hurt them. But then she remembered that they had no experience sensing the emotions of anyone but their own tyree. Surely the chances were infinitesimal that they’d ever recognize what she’d kept out of their link.

  When she agreed, their happiness made her smile despite her misgivings. In truth, it had always been an effort to keep up her blocks against the force of their energy. Lhyn was right; she hadn’t been able to relax.

  Ekatya unzipped her uniform jacket, revealing an Alsean button-front shirt beneath. As she undid the top buttons, she said, “Not quite regulation, I know, but I’m not on duty.”

  Lhyn had worn an Alsean jacket and now unzipped it halfway to reveal nothing but smooth skin. She gave Tal a lopsided grin. “We were pretty sure you’d say yes.”

  They stood in the middle of the room, and Tal took one last look at the impossible view out the window before focusing herself and sliding her hands into place. As always, the jolt stiffened her spine—she’d never gotten used to it—but she lowered her head immediately and said, “Make the connection.”

  “That quickly?” Ekatya asked.

  “I don’t need to fortify my blocks this time.”

  Ekatya laid a cool hand on Tal’s neck as she rested their heads together. “Oh! That’s different.”

  Lhyn followed suit. “It is different.”

  “Richer.”

  “Warmer,” Lhyn agreed. “I can sense the increased complexity, but I can’t really tell where you end and Andira begins.”

  Good, Tal thought. And as her friends lost themselves in the Sharing, she finally relaxed and let go.

  Fourteen days ago, when she had linked these two women together for the first time, she’d thought she would never experience anything more intimate.

  She was wrong.

  Chapter 69

  The last front

  When Andira withdrew, breaking their link, Ekatya felt as if something had been physically ripped away from her. She wondered if it was because this had been her first Sharing involving direct contact with an empath’s emotions, but when she straightened and saw the sad smile on Andira’s face, she suspected the real cause was simpler than that. Their friendship might be young, but it went deeper than almost any other in her life, and she was already missing it.

  She watched Lhyn throw herself into Andira’s arms and reflected on the irony of the situation. She’d come here because of Lhyn, and now she was leaving for the same reason.

  But they were not leaving as the same people, were they?

  Andira had lost her reticence when it came to hugs and embraced Lhyn tightly, closing her eyes as they held each other for the last time. Then Lhyn whispered something in Andira’s ear and kissed her cheek.

  Andira’s eyes popped open, a look of such shock in them that Ekatya nearly laughed. Apparently, while hugs might be all right now, kisses were still culturally awkward. Too bad for the Lancer that she was going to get another one.

  Lhyn let her go and said, “Ekatya, will you walk her out? I’m not really up to it.”

  “Of course.”

  Lhyn squeezed Andira’s hand. “Thank you for everything. And this isn’t good-bye. We’ll come back as soon as we can.”

  “I’m counting on that,” Andira said. “Alsea won’t be the same without you.” She held Lhyn’s hand for a long moment before letting it go and meeting Ekatya’s eyes. “Shall we?”

  It was a quiet walk to the lift. After the emotional intimacy of that last Sharing, there didn’t seem to be anything left to say. Colonel Micah was also subdued when they collected him, and no one spoke as they returned to the nearly empty shuttle bay.

  “Micah,” Andira said when they reached the shuttle’s ramp, “I’d like a moment with Captain Serrado.”

  “Of course.” He stepped up to Ekatya. “Captain, it has been a very great pleasure. And if I live until Fahla brings us home, I will never forget the sight of you shouting down the war council like an instructor with a batch of new trainees. It was the treat of a lifetime.”

  She clasped his outstretched arm. “I have to admit it was rather satisfying. But there are certain things an outsider can get away with more easily.”

  “You’re not such an outsider anymore. Farewell, and may Fahla guide you back to us.”

  “Farewell, Colonel. Let me know if your war council needs more training; I’ll see if I can’t return sooner.”

  He nodded and made his way up the ramp, where the pilot waited to settle him into his harness. Ekatya watched him go, rolling his final words around in her head. She suspected that from a man like Colonel Micah, being considered “not an outsider” was a high compliment indeed.

  When she turned back, Andira was no longer making any effort to hide her sorrow. The look in her eyes brought up the lump that Ekatya had been swallowing ever since their Sharing had ended.

  “You get used to saying good-bye in this job,” Ekatya said. “But in this case, it’s not helping.”

  “I’ve never had to get used to it. Nor would I want to acquire any expertise. This is…” She trailed off, the consummate politician for once at a loss for words.

  “Hard to believe I once wanted to kill you.” Ekatya smiled at the surprised laugh that elicited.

  “You did a terrible job of it.”

  “And thank your Fahla for that. I’d have lost one of my best friends and never even known it.”

  Andira’s expression stilled. “I’m losing one of my best friends right now. But I know it all too well.”

  “You’re not losing me. You know I’ll come back.”

  “In my line of work, promises don’t always mean much.”

  “Mine do,” Ekatya said firmly. “And even if I didn’t have my own incentives to come back, Lhyn would drag me here.”

  “True words.” Andira managed a ghost of a smile. “Fahla knew what she was doing when she made you tyrees. She brought us the only people who could have saved us.”

  “I think you saved yourselves. Lhyn put it pretty well when she said I saved Blacksun, but you saved your world.”

  Andira reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together. She studied their clasped hands for several seconds before looking up with the most open expression Ekatya had ever seen on her.

  “I hadn’t planned to say this, and part of me is still convinced I shouldn’t. But I underestimated Lhyn, and if you hear it at all, it should be from me. Ekatya…had you not been tyree, I would never have let you leave without doing my best to share more than emotions.”

  She should have been surprised, but some part of her had already known. Tightening her grip, she said, “Had I not been tyree, you would have succeeded.”

  They stared at each other for a moment before Ekatya pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. She held on for a long time, until she was certain she’d pushed the tears back down. Letting go at last, she said, “Good-bye, my friend. For now.”

  “For now,” Andira answered hoarsely. She stepped back, stiffened her posture, and thumped a fist to her chest. Then she turned and walked up the ramp without a backward glance.

  Ekatya did not leave until the shuttle was out of sight.

  In her quarters she found Lhyn in front of the viewport, looking down at the planet. Without a word, she crossed the room and wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “Did she tell you?” Lhyn asked.

  “Yes. Which explained why you didn’t walk her out. And why she wouldn’t let down her blocks in our Sharings.”

  “She’s so lonely, Ekatya. I wanted her to have at lea
st that much with you. I could feel it, during that last connection.”

  “I felt it too, but I didn’t recognize it. You seem to be better at that than I am.”

  “No, I just know what it feels like to be in love with you.”

  Ekatya turned and kissed her. Maybe there was something left over from their last Sharing, because she could have sworn she felt a little jolt of electricity when their lips met.

  “She saluted me before she left,” she said. “I’ve never seen her salute anyone.”

  “Because she doesn’t. The Lancer salutes no one. But I guess the Savior of Blacksun is in a different category.”

  “So is Andira Tal.”

  Lhyn made no answer except to hold her more tightly. Past her shoulder, Ekatya watched the blue and white beauty of Alsea and imagined a tiny shuttle taking its leader back home.

  Epilogue

  “It’s a pleasure to have you on board, Lancer Tal.” The young builder looked as proud of the ship as if he’d put it together himself.

  “It’s always a pleasure to be here. And this is certainly an easier entrance than the one we came through originally. You’ve all done a spectacular job.”

  After three moons of work, the Caphenon was transformed. A new entrance had been cut through the hull, opening directly into what was now a lobby on the bottom deck. Upon clearing security, workers and visitors moved into the brightly lit corridor, where the plants grew in lush profusion and the art had been cleaned and painstakingly repaired. A few steps down the corridor, the magnetic lift waited to whisk passengers to any point in the ship in half a tick or less.

  Tal nodded at the young man, who looked toward the ceiling and said, “Deck eighteen, section four.”

  “Confirmed,” said the ship. The doors slid shut, and a few pipticks later they slid open again. Tal had felt no movement.

  “Remarkable,” she said. “You’ve finally worked out the last of the shakes.”

  “That was Kyne Sharroden. Chief says he’s a miracle worker.”

  Though she still thought of him as a commander, Kameha had lost his rank when he’d resigned his Fleet commission. He’d suggested Kyne Kameha, using the honorific for a member of the builder caste, but it hadn’t caught on. The builders and scholars working under him had universally named him Chief, and nothing was going to change that now. Tal had teased him that within another moon she was bound to forget his family name.

  The Caphenon’s ongoing repairs were now down to basic cleanup and restoration. The work crews were going deck by deck, transforming each in turn to a sparkling, orchid-scented space. When they reached the habitat ring, they began crating any personal possessions they found, labeling them with the name of their owner and storing them against the day when the space elevators were constructed and the Gaians’ belongings could be returned. The newly clean and empty crew quarters were being maintained as emergency housing in the event of the unthinkable. Eventually they would construct shield generators for their larger buildings, but that was far down the list of priorities. Right now the Caphenon was the only place on Alsea that could withstand a Voloth attack.

  It was the issue of Gaian property that had brought Tal today. The work crew had reached the captain’s quarters, and she’d left standing orders that no one would pack up that suite until she cleared it.

  “Here it is,” the builder announced. He turned and leaned against the wall next to the door, where he would wait until she came back out.

  “Thank you.” Tal tapped the entry button and stepped through.

  After the pristine condition of the corridor outside, she was unprepared for the destruction in this room. Ceiling tiles lay in pieces everywhere, while conduit and cabling slumped in piles where they’d been cut free during repairs. A heavy structural beam had crashed down near Ekatya’s desk, spilling something in the process that had stained the carpet a rusty brown.

  Tal’s gaze had already moved on before her brain registered just what that stain was. Her head snapped back and she stared in horror.

  Lhyn had been brought out of the habitat ring, the last one to be rescued. She’d never said anything about it and Ekatya hadn’t either, but where else would Lhyn have been other than here?

  She remembered Healer Wellernal giving her a thousand details on the Gaians’ injuries, and how little attention she’d paid at the time. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall what he’d said about Lhyn.

  With a flick of her wrist, she pulled out her reader card and unrolled it. Accessing the medical records at Blacksun Healing Center, she specified Lhyn Rivers and was soon looking at a bone scan that made her queasy.

  “Even now you surprise me,” she murmured. Certainly Dewar would have given her a dose of thantane, but after that she should have been exhausted. Instead she’d spent half a hantick translating, explaining, and doing diplomatic duty she’d never been trained for.

  What was more, Tal realized, her first contact via wristcom had been impossibly cheerful. Not even the strongest warrior trained in pain compartmentalization could have sounded like that after the kind of injury she was looking at. There was only one explanation: Lhyn hadn’t let Dewar contact her—and by extension, Ekatya—until she’d been treated. Until she could reassure Ekatya that she was fine. Even after hanticks of suffering, blood loss, and shock, her first thought had been for her tyree.

  Tal tucked the reader card back into its pouch and crossed the room. What she’d thought were small bits of debris turned out to be two metallic objects sitting exactly in the center of each of the largest stains. She picked up one of them curiously, turning it over in her fingers. Though she’d been studying the Common alphabet and could read simple sentences now, she didn’t need that to recognize Ekatya’s name and rank engraved on the back. The second object also had her name on it.

  A silver disc and a red star…if she had to guess, these were awards, probably for valor. But why hadn’t Ekatya taken them with her? They were tiny enough to hardly even factor into space limitations.

  The mystery deepened when she ventured into the bedroom and found a small black box lying open on the floor, the depressions in its inner cushioning exactly matching the shapes of the medallions. They hadn’t fallen into the main room during the crash. And they had no blood on them, which meant they’d been put on those stains after the blood had dried. Ekatya had deliberately taken them out of the case and placed them there.

  The puzzle pieces fell into place, and she could imagine the scene as surely as if she’d been watching it. Ekatya had thought the Caphenon would be vaporized; she’d never meant for anyone to see her private tribute to Lhyn’s courage.

  Tal tucked the medallions back into their case and pocketed it, then searched the room for anything too personal to entrust to the work crew. Satisfied at last, she exited the suite and told the young builder he was free to pack it up.

  In her State House quarters that night, she set the open case beneath her yellow-to-blue Filessian orchid. Ekatya had promised to return in another cycle, two at most, because—as she said and Lhyn loudly confirmed—Lhyn wouldn’t allow anything longer than that.

  Until then, she’d keep these safe.

  END BOOK ONE

  The Adventure Continues In:

  WITHOUT A FRONT I

  The Producer’s Challenge

  &

  WITHOUT A FRONT II

  The Warrior’s Challenge

  For more Information about the Series,

  Chronicles of Alsea:

  www.chroniclesofalsea.com

  Glossary

  UNITS OF TIME

  piptick: one 100th of a tick (about half a second).

  tick: about a minute (50 seconds).

  tentick: ten ticks.

  hantick: 10 tenticks, just shy of 1.5 hours (83.33 minutes). One Alsean day is 20 hanticks (27.7 hours) or 1.15 days.

  moon: a basic unit of Alsean time, similar to our month but 36 days long. Each moon is divided into four parts called ninedays. One Alsean
moon equals 41.55 stellar (Earth) days.

  cycle: the length of time it takes the Alsean planet to revolve around their sun (13 moons or approximately 17 stellar months).

  Alsean days are divided into quarters, each five hanticks long, which reset at the end of the eve quarter. The quarters are: night, morn, mid, and eve. A specific hantick can be expressed in one of two ways: its place in the quarter or its exact number. Thus morn-three would be three hanticks into the morning quarter, which can also be expressed as hantick eight (the five hanticks of the night quarter plus three of the morning). In the summer, the long days result in sunrise around morn-one (hantick six), lunch or midmeal at mid-one (hantick eleven), dinner or evenmeal at eve-one (hantick sixteen), and sunset around eve-five (hantick twenty).

  UNITS OF MEASUREMENT

  pace: half a stride.

  stride: the distance of a normal adult’s stride at a fast walk (about a meter).

  length: a standard of distance equalling one thousand strides (about a kilometer).

  GENERAL TERMS

  ba: short name for bondparent (either bondmother or bondfather).

  bai: short name for birthparent (either birthmother or birthfather).

  bondmate: a life partner.

  dokker: a farm animal similar to a cow. Slow moving and rather stupid, but with a hell of a kick when it’s angry or frightened.

  dokshin: vulgar term for dokker feces.

  Eusaltin: the smaller and nearer moon of Alsea.

  evenmeal: dinner.

  Fahla: the goddess of the Alseans; also called Mother.

  fanten: a farm animal similar to a pig, used for meat.