The Ninth Orb (11 page)

When she’d matched her pace to the movement, she stepped onto it. Baen obviously didn’t know that he had to do so in order to maintain balance. She didn’t know whether it was fortunate that she looked back at just that moment, or unfortunate. He wobbled, the carcass on his shoulders shifted and he abruptly lost his balance. Eden made a grab for his arm to steady him. It was an exercise in futility considering how much bigger than her he was. They both sprawled out in a tangle of body parts. Fortunately, Eden was on top. Baen’s weight combined with his burden might have caused her serious injury otherwise. As it was only her self esteem was bruised.

He looked up at her in bemusement as she struggled to get off of him. By the time she managed to do so, she’d wallowed all over him and was thoroughly rattled.

They’d also gathered a sizeable audience.

Almost as if she’d summoned them, a half a dozen colonists broke from their frozen state of surprise and surged forward all at once, trying to help Baen to his feet. Eden frowned when they made no attempt to disperse once he was up and steady.

“Thank you,” she said dismissively. “I think we can handle it from here.”

A couple of the women glanced at her. The others were so wrapped up in studying Baen her comment fell on deaf ears.

Baen looked downright unnerved to discover himself surrounded by females who were treating him with everything from shy smiles to blatantly avid interest. Eden was so irritated it took her several moments to recall any of the women’s names. “Since Baen was kind enough to bring us some fresh meat, perhaps you could show your appreciation by taking it to the food processing plant? Julie? Carla?”

Both women turned to look at her when addressed, glanced down at the beast, which was now lying at Baen’s feet, then up at Eden again as if they were questioning her sanity. “That?”

“It’s some sort of herd beast--like beef, I suppose.”

“You expect us to carry it?”

It was a bit much to ask, she supposed, but considering that there were six women doing nothing more than gaping at Baen, she thought they might have at least attempted to look as if they had some business loitering in Baen’s vicinity. Exasperated, Eden touched her wrist communicator, summoning a bot for the job. “Now that we have that taken care of, you ladies can return to what you were doing.”

Patently reluctant and more than a little resentful, the crowd finally began to disperse.

When they’d gone, Eden sent Baen an assessing glance. An almost comical expression of guilt crossed his features. Her irritation waned. It wasn’t like she had territorial rights, or that he’d encouraged the women to fawn all over him. Eden knew that and she still felt more than a little ruffled by the episode.

In his turn, Baen eyed the bot rather resentfully as it lifted his offering from the roadway, swiveled around and headed down the sidewalk toward the food processing plant. “These … machines are your workers?” he asked disapprovingly.

Eden’s brows rose. “We all work. The bots help with the heavy lifting.”

He had mixed feelings about that, she saw. Obviously, he saw the bots as an impediment to the usefulness of the workers he’d offered. Just as plainly, he was surprised to discover the women actually worked.

She supposed that was understandable.

The females of his race might be predisposed to produce many babies at once, but as far as she’d seen their physiology wasn’t really designed for the task. The toll upon their bodies was heavy if Sademeen was anything to go by.

Dismissing the thoughts when she saw they were near her home, she stepped from the roadway, led him inside, and showed him the facilities. He looked the particle shower over curiously, a faintly puzzled frown creasing his brow, but he began to tug at his tunic. He was halfway out of it when Eden turned from explaining how the shower worked. Her eyes widened. Impulsively, she put her hands over his. “No!”

She reddened at the look he gave her.

“Actually, you would--ordinarily. But you don’t have to and, besides, your tunic is soiled, too. You might as well clean it at the same time.”

Shrugging back into the tunic, he stepped inside. When she saw that he recalled her instructions without any problem, Eden retreated, irritated with herself that she’d given away the fact that his nakedness unnerved her and wondering if he’d realized that was what it was.

He looked vaguely discomfited when he came out of the bathing chamber. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out that he wasn’t familiar with a particle bath either, or much to see that he wasn’t particularly taken with it now that he’d experienced the ‘ultimate’ clean. He looked around the living area when she handed him a glass of chilled liqueur. Before she could warn him that the drink had a bit of a kick, he’d downed it.

She bit her lip at his expression. “Did you like the liqueur?” she asked innocently.

His eyes were watering. Swallowing with an effort, he nodded. The movement made him sway.

Eden’s brows rose.

He looked at the drinking vessel suspiciously. “What is this?”

Uneasiness invaded Eden at her thoughtlessness. She shouldn’t have given him anything but water. She had no idea whether he could tolerate alcohol of any kind. It seemed impossible to ignore that he’d never had anything like it. She’d had her mind on--other things instead of where it should have been. She didn’t know whether to be more amused or more worried about the effect. Surely it wouldn’t hurt him? “I should have given you water,” she said guiltily. Grasping his arm, she led him to a chair and urged him to sit down.

He sat rather heavily, staring almost accusingly at the vessel.

She took it from his hand. “Let me get you some water.”

She discovered when she turned from the sink tap that he’d followed her into the kitchen. He was looking around the room curiously. “This will not be large enough for the pazaan.”

A mixture of emotions flitted through Eden. He appeared to think it was all but settled that she would accept them--all eight of his brood!--and they’d be moving in. “No, but then we do not have pazaans,” she said pointedly. “This is probably all the room that I’ll need. I hadn’t planned to have more than two children.”

He looked her over with patent disbelief. “But you will need workers to help with two broods and also soldiers to protect the pazaan.”

She’d allowed her annoyance to guide her tongue when she should’ve been using her brain! If he hadn’t been more than a little tipsy, he might have noticed she’d said two children, not two broods. Smiling with an effort, she handed him the vessel she’d filled with water and guided him back into the living area. To her surprise and concern, he looked more intoxicated once he’d drank the water instead of less so.

After studying him worriedly for several moments, Eden moved to the communicator set in the wall near the door and summoned Deb from the clinic. “What’s going on?” Deb asked curiously.

Eden shook her head, unwilling to say anything more in case she might be overheard by the other women she could see behind Deb in the viewing screen. “Just bring what you need for an examination, will you?”

It was obvious from the look on Deb’s face when Eden greeted her at the door that the news had already traveled everywhere that Eden was entertaining one of the Xtanian’s in her home.

“I gave him a glass of liqueur,” Eden said worriedly when she’d grabbed Deb’s arm and pulled her inside.

“You have liqueur?” Deb gasped, instantly diverted.

“From my private things,” Eden retorted a little stiffly. “Could we focus on the problem?”

Deb glanced at Baen curiously. Her eyes widened as she turned to look at Eden again. “You gave him something we’d brought with us without checking first to see if he could tolerate it? It could be--like poison to him!”

Eden felt the blood leave her face. “Don’t even think that! Just check, all right?”

Obviously angry now, Deb crossed the room and leaned down to examine Baen’s eyes. “How much did you give him?”

“Around eight ounces, I suppose. I just poured the glass full.”

Deb straightened, sending Eden a glance of patent disbelief. “No more than that? You’re sure?”

Eden gave her a look. “I’m sure! I wouldn’t lie about something like that, especially under the circumstances.”

After a moment, Deb returned her attention to her patient. Digging around in her medical satchel, she removed a breath analyzer and had him blow into it. Her expression was accusing when she’d checked the results and looked at Eden again. “His blood alcohol level is high for no more than that.”

Eden didn’t bother trying to explain again. “So, you think he’s just a little inebriated?”

Deb’s lips flattened. “If he was human, yes. I don’t know a damned thing about these aliens, Eden, and you know I don’t. It could be anything!”

Eden chewed her lower lip worriedly for several moments and finally surged forward. “Let’s get him into my room and help him lie down. Maybe he just drank it too fast. Maybe he hasn’t eaten in a while and that’s why it affected him so badly.”

“And maybe you shouldn’t have given him anything at all until we knew more about their physiology!” Deb snapped. She bent to help Eden however. Once they had Baen on his feet, they each dragged one of his arms across their shoulders and guided him from the living area and down the short hallway to the bedroom Eden used, the only one that contained a bed.

He sprawled on the bed like a tree that had been felled, taking both Deb and Eden with him. Deb rolled away almost at once, crawling off of the bed. Baen’s arm tightened around Eden as she tried to disentangle herself and move away from him.

She lifted her head, looking down at him a little uneasily.

“I have never regretted being born a soldier. I never thought that I would have cause to.” He stroked a hand along her cheek. “Now I regret.”

When he released her, Eden was almost sorry. She would’ve been lying if she’d said she wasn’t a little disconcerted, but it had felt rather nice being held tightly against him.

“What did he say?” Deb asked curiously.

Eden glanced at her, but although she’d always considered Deb a friend, she discovered she didn’t want to share. “He doesn’t understand why he feels so strange,” she lied.

“The problem is, he does,” Baen muttered.

“What did he say that time?”

Eden moved away from him, but this time she merely shook her head. “Run some tests. I’d rather be sure this is nothing more than a bad reaction to the alcohol than be sorry later.”

Nodding, Deb left the room to get her satchel.

Eden studied Baen. The alcohol certainly seemed to have affected him in pretty much the same way it did humans. It had loosened his tongue and made him incautious. Finally, she sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. “I’m so sorry. It was stupid of me to give that to you, but I hope you realize that I didn’t mean you any harm.”

“My head spins.”

“I know. I feel so badly about this.” She glanced up as Deb returned, releasing his hand and rising. “She is a very good doctor,” she assured Baen.

Deb lifted the hand Eden had just released, grabbed a specimen collector and pricked his finger, extracting a tiny dot of blood. He jumped, but Eden thought it was more from surprise than pain. “I’ll just analyze this and see if I can get a better idea of what’s going on here.”

When Deb moved back to her satchel and pulled out her portable lab unit, Eden returned and sat on the edge of the bed again, drawn partly from a sense of guilt to comfort him when she knew he must be alarmed--however calm he seemed--by sensations he had never experienced.

It was a little more than that, though.

She didn’t entirely understand what he’d meant by the things he’d said, but the look in his eyes seemed to indicate that he was as drawn to her as she had been to him from the first.

His hand felt warm and strong in hers, faintly rough from calluses, but pleasantly so. The temptation arose to stroke her hand along his cheek as he had hers. Resisting the urge, she settled his hand on the bed and moved away, glancing at Deb to see if she’d discovered anything yet.

Deb was frowning. As Eden watched the color slowly drained from her face. Alarm went through Eden. “What is it?”

Deb looked up at her, but she was clearly so shocked her thoughts were chaotic.

“Is his physiology as different from ours as all that?” Eden demanded anxiously.

Deb blinked. Slowly, she shook her head.

“They’re not like us. We’re completely incompatible with them,” Eden said, suddenly certain that that must be what the problem was.

“Eden,” Deb said shakily. “They aren’t like us. They are us.”

Chapter Ten

“That’s not possible,” Eden retorted. “You must have contaminated the specimen somehow.”

Outrage contorted Deb’s features. “I’ve been doing this for thirty years! I’m an experienced lab tech as well as a doctor. There is no way the specimen was contaminated!”

It had been a gut reaction. Eden knew Deb wasn’t sloppy. “I’m sorry. It’s just--how could that be possible? We’ve never been here before. And they don’t even look like us, not like any race on Earth, anyway.”

Deb shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m as confused as you are. But the test results are indisputable.”

“System error?”

“I checked it out before I brought it. That’s standard procedure. You know that.”

Eden glanced at Baen, abruptly aware that she’d forgotten that he could hear and understand her side of the conversation at least. His eyes were closed, but she didn’t think he was asleep, or unconscious. Belatedly, she switched off the translator. “How could they look so different?”

“Evolution does some strange things. I don’t have an explanation for it, Eden. But there’s no doubt in my mind that, genetically, they are exactly the same species as we are.”

Eden frowned. “This information is not to be released--not yet--under any circumstances.”

“Why?”

Eden rubbed her head. “Their culture is nothing like ours and when cultures clash they might as well be completely different species, because they do not behave like brothers. This doesn’t really change anything beyond the question of whether or not we are compatible physiologically. In some ways, they’ve evolved very differently than we have and we still don’t understand that. I don’t understand it.