LOGAN (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 5) (24 page)

"Brianne?" Parisia said softly. "You look quite distressed. You mustn't be. I will admit that my proposal is radical but with Nadia out of the way..."

As Parisia began to spell out her plan, Brianne shook off the confusion she always felt when she thought too long or too hard about Delbert or Jason. She was the daughter of the Imperial Prefect of Heart, which meant if there was no major opposition, she would be the next Imperial Prefect. It was not good to question traditions that formed the foundation of their society. Her role was to see that those traditions were carried on in order to ensure domestic peace and tranquility throughout the world.

With part of her mind lagging in the past, she thought perhaps she had misunderstood what her mother was suggesting and asked her to repeat what she had just said. When she realized she hadn't misunderstood at all, she was filled with unease. It seemed extremely ironic that while she had been thinking of carrying on age-old traditions to assure world peace, the Imperial Prefect was planning on breaking a few primary laws... for the same reason.

* * *

Tarla saw the rows of cots, the men with bandaged wounds, the IV bottles and bare light bulbs. It's not real, she told herself. It's only a dream. You can make it go away if you really try.

She was sick to death of war, the senseless maiming and killing. How naïve she had been to think that because she'd worked as an emergency room nurse, she could tolerate the sights and sounds of an army hospital unit. For each soldier she nursed back to health, another died. Soon one young man's face blended in with the next and the next, and there were times when she had to look at the chart to remember whether this was Bill or Troy or a new patient just arrived. Had he lost a leg or a hand? Or was this another drug overdose?

But there was one name she didn't forget. One face that stayed with her whether she wanted it to or not. She saw him there now, lying on his cot with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep so she wouldn't bother him. But she was too smart for that ploy. He
was
going to talk to her today if she had to drag words out of his mouth.

As she did several times a day, she checked his pulse, took his temperature and listened to his lungs, chatting to him all the while as though she expected him to respond. Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked at her, and he didn't need to speak aloud.

He adored her. He worshiped her. He needed her to love him and need him in return. She had never known a man whose loneliness matched her own, and yet, without a word she knew he felt it too. "Logan," she whispered, and bent to kiss his lips.

Somehow she was now beside him then beneath him and they were on a bed of straw.

"I love you," he murmured as his hands and mouth aroused a hunger that had her trembling. She felt him against her, hard and ready to join their bodies together. But as she lay there, breathlessly awaiting the moment, Gianni and Higgs appeared in their white gloves and MP helmets and lifted his body off hers.

Tarla watched them escort him away, his wrists cuffed and his ankles shackled. "But he said he loves me," she cried. "He couldn't have done any of the things you're accusing him of. I know. Do you hear me? I know it's not true!" Gianni looked back at her and laughed.

The real sound of laughter pierced the dreamy veil and brought Tarla abruptly awake. She immediately realized that the giggles were coming from Robin and Lee and had nothing to do with her, but her heart still pounded from imagined desperation.

"Oops," Robin said when she noticed Tarla sitting upright. "Sorry about that."

Tarla waved away her apology. "It's okay. I'm surprised I fell asleep."

"We all did," Robin said with a shrug. "There's coffee if you need some."

Tarla knew she needed something but she wasn't sure exactly what. A flash of sexual need from her dream teased her drowsy mind and she promptly swept it away. But there was a piece she couldn't ignore so easily. She actually
did
know Logan was innocent. But what good would it do to defend him? They weren't even on Earth any more. And her conviction didn't come from evidence anyone would accept anyway.

Except Logan.
Because he knows the truth. And might appreciate having someone else know it as well, no matter how she came to know it.

By promising herself to examine that thought at a later, more appropriate time, she was able to focus on the present.

"You'd think they'd at least send us a message to let us know what's going on," Tarla stated to the room in general. "This waiting without knowing how long it's been is driving me crazy."

"Now that you're up, do you mind if we watch another program?" Robin asked.

"No, but how about the news first?"

Robin turned on the entertainment center and selected the news. The weather report was followed by the same sports news they'd heard before. Tarla was about to tell Robin to switch it when the picture changed to the Imperial Prefect and her Domestic Affairs Advisor exiting a room and being surrounded by reporters.

"Why did you call an emergency session of Parliament, Madam Prefect?" one reporter called out.

"What took all night to decide?" asked another.

"Why was the media excluded?"

Iris raised a hand and the crowd held their breath. "We apologize for any inconveniences or hurt feelings. A situation of utmost delicacy has occurred and, until all the parties involved have agreed on the actions to be taken, it will have to remain confidential."

"Until when?"

"Your constituents have a right to know what this
delicate
situation is!"

Parisia spoke in Iris's ear. She was clearly insisting her Advisor make another statement, much to that woman's disapproval. After another exchange, Iris straightened her shoulders and stepped forward. "Parisia will answer all your questions at an open media conference at three o'clock this afternoon in the Grand Hall. She respectfully requests that you do not browbeat any other members of Parliament until then. They have had a long night also and have been sworn to confidentiality."

Robin said, "That's got to be about us, right?"

"Sh-sh-sh," Tarla sounded as the picture switched back to the commentator.

"That was just moments ago and, as you heard, we have to wait six more hours to find out what all the secrecy is about. For some educated guesses from women around the nation, we go now to our roving reporters..."

"Six more hours," Tarla muttered. "Assuming they keep similar time to us, that makes it about nine in the morning. Good heavens! We've already been gone more than a day."

"Can you imagine what everyone back on the farm is thinking?" Alicia asked. "They must be—"

The front door opened and Parisia and Iris entered. Robin turned off the entertainment center and they all rose expectantly.

"We apologize for the delay," Parisia said. "It was quite... complicated. Please be seated. We have several matters to discuss with you."

They all sat, the Heart women on one side of the table, the Earth women on the other, but no one tried to pretend they were at ease. The tension in the room was too thick to cut with polite greetings and pleasant smiles and neither faction bothered to make the effort.

Tarla understood that in a bargaining situation, whoever talks first usually loses. She wondered if the person who first said that had ever tried to sit quietly while his or her freedom was on the line. Thankfully, Iris didn't abide by that theory.

"Yesterday we introduced ourselves to you but we did not insist you reciprocate. As a show of respect, we invite you to use our birth names, Iris and Parisia and, in return, it would be helpful to know something about each of you. We are aware that you were all involved in a violent confrontation—a war—before you came here. We'd be interested in knowing what your contributions were in that conflict."

"I'm Tarla. I'm a trauma nurse. I was a captain in the Army, which makes me the senior ranking officer of the women stranded here."

"Robin. I'm a mech/tech, uh, mechanic and technician. I can repair anything with an engine in it, with or without a computer."

"Alicia, helicopter pilot. But I'm qualified to fly other craft too."

"Lee. I was in the infantry during the war, but back home I own a martial arts school."

Parisia wrinkled her brow. "That phrase is not familiar. What sort of art is taught at your school?"

"The art of self-defense, strong mind, strong body."

Parisia's eyes widened. "Were you one of the women who had the violent encounter with two men the first night?"

Lee grinned and pointed at Alicia. "She was the other one."

"Amazing," Parisia murmured, shaking her head. "We realize you must be quite anxious to begin negotiations and I assure you we have a proposition that should interest you. However, it will be much easier to work out details if we each understand a little more about the other's background and philosophy."

For quite a while she and Iris asked questions which mainly focused on Earth's recent war, what the women's specific duties were, how it began and how it ended. Tarla supplied most of the general answers, with the other women offering personal details when requested.

When Iris and Parisia were satisfied with what they'd learned about the war, they took turns describing their culture and how it had taken a different direction from Earth's. Though Tarla and her team had gleaned a good deal of information from the Fictionvision programs, they listened attentively, particularly when Iris related the legend of the Velids' attack on Heart and subsequent transfer of power from men to women.

"No one is certain about what actually happened or whether men were ever really in control. All recorded history begins centuries after the women enslaved the remaining men. The legend has survived primarily as a reminder of why men must not be allowed to exercise their natural urges. Based on what you've told us about this last war on Earth, we have acted wisely."

Tarla felt as though she should come to the defense of her planet but the facts were against her. "Nevertheless, Earth is our home. We wish to return to our families and friends."

Robin sat forward. "And our men may have some terrible characteristics but we prefer them that way to what your
antidote
turns them into. Obviously, at least one of your women thought the same way."

Parisia blushed and cleared her throat. "With regard to your captive, we have confirmed everything you claimed, except that she is Nadia, not Parisia. What she did was not sanctioned by Parliament, nor would it ever be. It has been decided that her punishment will be to remain in the commune for five years, at which time her case will be reviewed. Thus, we have no wish to bargain for her release."

Tarla's heart stopped and started again with a lurch. It was exactly what they had feared. She made herself keep breathing while she waited to hear what sort of decision had been made about them.

"However," Parisia said after giving her words time to sink in, "we wish to bargain for your services instead."

The four Earth women shared surprised glances. They had thought the game was over when it had barely begun.

"Iris related the positive aspects of our society. We are quite proud to boast of thousands of years of peaceful, nonviolent existence. But one of the reasons this has been possible is because we have no enemies in our solar system. No one has forced us to defend our world.

"Recently it has come to our attention that faster-than-light travel has been developed on other planets, making it possible for beings from distant galaxies to visit us one day. We would like to believe they would come in peace, to exchange ideas or establish trade. But that would be dangerously naïve of us."

Iris picked up the narrative from there. "Parisia has just spent most of the night convincing Parliament that we can no longer assume that we are safe in our peaceful system and that we need to be prepared in the event of an alien attack."

"That sounds reasonable," Tarla said.

"To you perhaps," Parisia replied. "But this is a radical idea here. You see, we have no army, no defense system, no weapons of any kind. It will take vast sums of money to implement a plan of any sort and there is no budget allocation for such. Without being able to see an immediate threat, several members of Parliament are strongly against diverting funds from ongoing projects."

"This is where we have you to thank," Iris interjected. "The loudest opponents to Parisia's defense proposal—as we anticipated—were Nadia's supporters. Once they were shown proof of what she had done, they were only too happy to withdraw their support of her and back Parisia."

Tarla thought she heard an opening to start bargaining, but she couldn't be sure. It seemed too easy. "I'm glad to hear that our efforts weren't completely wasted."

Iris's wrinkled face relaxed into a near smile. "And now you are wondering if it was enough to trade for your freedom."

Tarla was relieved to hear that they were finally getting to the crux of this discussion.

"Very simply, the answer is no," Parisia stated before Tarla could confirm Iris's supposition. "However, I told you we have a proposition and, in a moment, you will understand why we took such a circuitous route to get to it. Our lack of a defense system and weaponry is only part of our problem. Even with Parliament approving the funds needed, we still lack something vital to our defense—the attitude necessary to commit violence.