gaian consortium 06 - zhore deception (23 page)

“We have to believe that they do — not because Annika and Sarzhin are not circumspect, but because the girl’s family, particularly her sister, are not as good at keeping secrets as they should be. But we’ve made it clear through the necessary channels that the two of them and their child are to be left alone.”

A request that would have to be honored, at least openly. But if the agents of Gaia’s government decided to make a play at getting their hands on a hybrid child of their own…well, he supposed they’d thought it would work out quite well, as long as no one discovered what they were plotting.

“We think it best that Ms. Knox stays here, for obvious reasons,” Nalzhir continued. “We hope that you can find yourself able to take her into your care.”

“Indeed?” On the most basic level, it made some sense. The two of them were
sayara
. They could not spend any great amount of time at any great distance from one another, or Zhandar would suffer the consequences. And then there was the child.

Even so, he didn’t know if he could manage that. Yes, Trinity was contrite, and cooperative. But her helpfulness now couldn’t simply erase everything she’d done wrong over the past month. He wanted her…possibly he even still loved her…but he was very angry with her.

“Not necessarily in your apartment,” Nalzhir said smoothly. “We can make arrangements to have her move into the one directly below yours. And she will have people watching over her. For obvious reasons, she cannot be allowed to return to her work with you. But at least that way you will be near enough each other that it will not jeopardize your bond.”

That could work…perhaps. It was entirely possible that having her that close, and yet not truly being with her, would be more of a torture than anything else. At the same time, it would be better than sharing an apartment with her, and infinitely better than having her sent back to Gaia. But no, Nalzhir and those he worked for would never do something like that, for they would be handing down Zhandar’s death sentence.

All the same, he couldn’t help asking, “And what of Trinity’s Gaian masters? Are you going to communicate with them at all?”

“That has not been decided yet. For now, it’s enough that they know we have discovered her, and have interrupted their surveillance activities.” The agent shook his head, and didn’t bother to conceal the disgust he was currently experiencing. “For them to think there was nothing wrong in using a young woman in such a way, to have her every word and action recorded…it is beyond anything any of us could have imagined. Yes, of course we know the Gaians have their spies, but they’ve never been so bold as to attempt to infiltrate the sanctity of our home world.”

The sanctity of my private life,
Zhandar thought then.
Every intimate moment I shared with Trinity, transmitted so they could analyze it, study it….

He shuddered.

Nalzhir said, “Yes, it is a terrible thing. And unfortunately, there is very little we can do about it, except be glad that you did discover Trinity’s identity, and that we were able to remove the implant. No doubt the Gaians are poring over all the data, rubbing their hands with glee at having so much information about those secretive Zhore.”

The agent’s voice held a sort of weary disdain, but at least Zhandar couldn’t detect any anger or irritation directed at him directly. His people knew that he had done nothing wrong. The bond with Trinity had been real, even if nothing else in their relationship had been, and so there would be no recriminations, no questions as to why he hadn’t detected her alien nature sooner than he had.

Since Zhandar didn’t quite know how to respond, he remained silent.

Nalzhir apparently took that as his cue to continue. “I suppose we were naïve to think that we could keep ourselves hidden from the Gaians forever. They are far too acquisitive a race, and unscrupulous. It is an unfortunate combination.” He hesitated then, his hood tilted toward Zhandar. “And yet you formed this bond with her, saw nothing untoward in her behavior or her reactions.”

The agent’s tone was so mild that Zhandar couldn’t exactly construe it as accusatory, and yet….

“There was nothing,” he said. “Oh, perhaps once or twice she hesitated at odd times, or responded to a question or a situation in a manner I thought somewhat unusual, but I put that down to her being from Alizhaar, a place whose customs are not precisely the same as ours here in Torzhaan. I suppose it was her psychic gifts that allowed her to function so well among us. Even if she could not precisely read our minds, she could pick up emotions we thought were safely hidden.”

Nalzhir inclined his head in agreement. “That part is rather extraordinary. We had heard rumors that Gaians existed who possessed these sorts of talents, but certainly none of our people have come across them, and no doubt the Consortium wishes to keep them hidden so it can utilize them as it sees fit. Their abilities do seem to differ greatly from ours.”

“Yes. Trinity apparently can read thoughts themselves, although she admitted that her talent did not function the same with everyone, and that there were a few people she could not read at all.”

“Once she is fully recovered, we would like to conduct some tests with her.”

At that comment, Zhandar couldn’t keep himself from recoiling slightly in alarm. “What kind of tests?”

“Nothing invasive, I assure you. Only a small battery to determine how strong her gifts are, and whether they are concentrated in certain areas. It would not be strenuous — she would only sit in a chair, just as you are doing now, and speak with several counselors and scientists.”

That didn’t sound quite as bad as he’d feared. Even so, he had to say, “But you will wait until she feels she is ready.”

A chuckle emerged from Nalzhir’s hood. “Zhandar, for a man who is furious with his partner, you are being quite protective.”

“She is not my partner,” Zhandar replied stiffly.

“Perhaps not. But she is still
sayara
.”

They let her out of the medical center after three days. To tell the truth, she’d been ready to leave after the first full day, but the physicians there wanted to continue monitoring her, just to be sure she didn’t develop any infections from the procedures to remove the Zhore skin or to remove the implant.

That damn implant. She wished they’d given it to her so she could have ground it under the heel of her boot. But of course the Zhore wouldn’t be that wasteful. They would have taken it to a lab to be studied.

At least it was out of her head.

The whole time she’d been “recovering” in the medical center, she’d been wondering what they planned to do with her. Build a special prison, just for their captured Gaian spy? Or simply put her under house arrest?

That appeared to be exactly what they intended. A Zhore agent had come to speak with her, a man named Nalzhir, and he had told her that she would be living in the apartment directly beneath Zhandar’s.

“For you have made the
sayara
bond,” the government man told her. “So you must remain close by. An agent named Rinzha has been assigned to you. She will stay in your apartment with you and see that you come to no harm.”

What harm could I possibly come to on Zhoraan?
Trinity wondered then. In the next instant, however, she realized that her watchdog, this Rinzha person, was probably there more to keep any Zhore from being shocked by the presence of a Gaian among them than because the government feared for Trinity’s safety.

She hadn’t dared to ask whether the Gaians themselves — and Gabriel Brant in particular — had been notified of her capture. Of course he would have known, would have seen everything that happened to her until she was put under sedation and the implant removed. But the Zhore still should have contacted the Gaian government. That was supposed to be the protocol. Or so she’d heard. Then again, the Consortium wasn’t known for following rules, even its own, so she doubted the Zhore were too worried about following the conventions in this particular instance.

On the one hand, she’d love to see Gabriel fuming at his current impotence, of knowing that she was in Zhore hands and that there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it. On the other…well, even on a good day, Gabriel wasn’t the sort of person she would ever trust, and if he was feeling particularly desperate….

Well, she’d have to hope that whoever had reined him in last time, after he’d had her brought to his hideout on the second moon, was also riding herd on him this go-round. With any luck, the Consortium would have decided to wash its hands of her, and had abandoned her to her fate.

Which was, she realized upon inspecting her new home, not so bad. Zhandar’s absence hurt, like a physical ache. She hadn’t been expecting that. After all, she’d always picked herself up and dusted herself off in the past whenever a relationship went sour.

That was different, though. She hadn’t loved those men. Not really.

The agent assigned her, Rinzha, was quiet and unobtrusive. Trinity’s new apartment was larger than the one she’d previously been living in, and so there were three bedrooms, one for her, one for Rinzha, and one probably intended as an office or study. It had an entertainment unit, but Trinity doubted she’d use it all that often. Zhoraan’s tame offerings had already begun to pall even before she’d been placed under house arrest.

It should have been comfortable, if somewhat confining. They did allow her to go out on the balcony, as long as she wore her robes and made sure that no one could see her face. So there was sun, and fresh air, and flowers and an herb garden off to one side where she could putter around.

The problem was that she could sense when Zhandar came and went. She couldn’t even say which was worse — knowing he was there, just a floor above her, and not being able to speak with him, or the times when he was gone at work, when the absence of his presence felt like a great gaping hole in her existence.

She’d been here a week now, and not once had he come to see her. Maybe that shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was. He’d been angry — she hadn’t even realized that one of the placid Zhore could get that angry — and yet she’d nursed the hope that he would move past that and at least speak with her. But no. They were living close by one another merely so the physical aspects of the
sayara
bond couldn’t be broken, but it seemed he had no desire to do anything beyond that.

No one had mentioned the baby, either. Well, the doctors and the psychiatrists had run a battery of tests and declared her to be in good health, and had gone off to collate the answers she’d given them about her psychic abilities, but other than that, nothing. On Gaia, the first thing a doctor always asked when a woman had a positive pregnancy test was, “Are you going to keep it?” Considering Gaia’s chronic over-population problems, Trinity thought that made some sense, although the practice had always seemed pretty cold-blooded to her.

But Zhore had the opposite issue. There was no question as to whether she would be having this child. What happened to it afterward, though….

I suppose they’ll take it and give it to Zhandar,
she thought drearily.
Then he can have the family he always wanted, and I…well, I’ll probably stay in this apartment until I drop dead of old age.

Maybe it would have been better to be locked up in MaxSec. At least then she wouldn’t have known what it was like to be loved by Zhandar, only to have it all taken away.

She’d been standing on the balcony, lost in these dark ruminations. Her mood didn’t fit the day, which was sunny and bright, with delicate clouds chasing one another across the sky. But she couldn’t seem to shake it, no matter what.

Rinzha came out into the balcony garden, pausing a few feet away. The wind caught at her hood, but of course the heavy fabric stayed stubbornly in place. “You have a visitor. Nalzhir, of the Alien Relations Bureau.”

So that was who he worked for. Trinity had no idea the Zhore even had enough relations with other races to require a bureau to handle those affairs, but apparently they did. She couldn’t think what Nalzhir might want. Then again, his visit would at least help a little to break up the monotony of her day.

She nodded at Rinzha and went inside, then pulled off the heavy hooded cloak she wore. That was one good thing about having her identity revealed; she only had to wear the damn thing when she went outside.

Nalzhir was waiting for her in the living room area. Upon seeing him, Rinzha bowed at the waist, hands clasped together, and then disappeared into her room. Trinity still hadn’t quite figured out what the Zhore woman’s exact role was — guard, protector, nursemaid? Obviously, though, she thought Trinity was safe enough in Nalzhir’s company, and wouldn’t do anything as rude as intrude on their meeting.

“Hello, Nalzhir,” Trinity said as she approached him. “I wasn’t expecting company, but if you’d like some water, or some honey tea — ”

“Thank you, but I require nothing,” he replied, sounding positively brusque for a Zhore. Then he gestured toward one of the sofas. “If you would please sit down?”

That should have been her line, but Trinity didn’t protest. She went to the couch he’d indicated and settled herself on it. His gaze seemed to track her, but she couldn’t tell for sure. And a little probe toward his thoughts didn’t help, either. He was very locked down.

“How are you faring here?” he asked.

“Um…fine,” she replied. No, she wasn’t fine, but she doubted he’d asked because he wanted the truth from her. It was just a polite formality that had to be observed.

“Good.” He paused for a second or two, as if gathering his thoughts. Then he said, “We have had a communiqué from the diplomatic branch of your government.”

“Oh?” Trinity attempted to sound neutral, but she wasn’t sure how successful she had been. All along she’d been hoping that the Consortium had decided to wash its hands of her. If they were contacting the Zhore, however, that wouldn’t appear to be the case.

“Yes. They are demanding your immediate return.”

Of course they were. Nothing like going on the offensive when you were, in fact, the offending party. “And your response?”