Without a Front (27 page)

“No,” Salomen murmured, studying Tal's face. “But I have a feeling that if I'd been given what I wished for, I would have found it lacking.”

Tal released one hand and touched her, lightly running her fingers along a delicate cheekbone ridge. “I would never have known to wish for you, because I've never known anyone like you.”

Salomen smiled. “Coming from the Lancer, that's saying something.” She reached out, and Tal's entire body was vividly aware of the soft touch on her own face. “I think it goes without saying that I've never known anyone like you, either.”

“With you, I'm not certain anything can go without saying.”

“Yes, it can.” Salomen closed the tiny distance between them and kissed her. It was a slow, gentle, sweet kiss, and Tal wanted to spend the rest of the day exactly here. But she was too mindful of their fragile truce and pulled back before she could cross some unseen boundary.

Salomen had other ideas. She wrapped one hand around the back of Tal's neck, firmly drawing her in, and this time when their lips met, there was less gentleness and more need. Then there was only need, and their bodies were molded together as she lost herself in the pleasure of exploring…until the sudden ignition of their emotions flashed through her, burning out her empathic senses with a searing intensity. Gasping, she pulled back and waited for her head to clear.

“That is positively debilitating,” she said.

Salomen laughed shakily. “I'm glad to hear you say that. It makes me feel better. I didn't even know that sort of thing could happen.”

“Neither did I.” Tal caught a wisp of Salomen's hair, which had escaped from her usual tail, and tucked it behind her ear. “Please don't push me away again. I know this isn't what either of us expected—or even thought we wanted—but it could lead to something beyond both our dreams. Isn't that worth fighting for?”

“I'm not the warrior,” Salomen said. Then she smiled, a real smile that lit up her eyes and deepened the creases at the sides of her mouth. “But I know how to fight for what I believe in. And I have to believe in this. It's too strong to be denied.”

“Thank Fahla.” Tal leaned in again but stopped just before their lips met. “Shek.”

“What is it?”

She straightened. “I feel as if I'm facing a disruptor. I'm not sure how many more of those empathic flares I can handle.”

“And you think kissing causes it?”

“I don't know what causes it, but it seems to have something to do with physical touch. The first one was during a warmron, remember?”

“Actually,” Salomen mused, “everything seems to have started with a warmron. Has it only been three days since you included warmrons in my lessons? No wonder I'm jumpier than a fanten on slaughter day.”

“Salomen…can we hold this back until I learn more about it? I know someone who might be able to help us make sense of this. I'll talk to her after the Council session.”

“First you ask me not to push you away, then you push me away?”

“Only for a day.”

Salomen rolled her eyes. “Inconsistent. I suppose this is the part where I begin learning all of the less desirable things about you.”

“No, you already know all of those.”

They smiled at each other and then separated, their movements awkward as they let each other go. Tal pulled on her gloves, reached down for her soilbreaker, and straightened slowly as her muscles got her attention for the first time that morning.

“Sore?” Salomen asked, making no effort to front her amusement.

“Not at all.”

“And you were upset when I lied.”

“I don't lie. Except when it's necessary.”

“Ah, so it's necessary now?”

“Yes. I have no desire to spend the rest of my days hearing about how the warrior could not do a producer's job.” Tal turned around and swung the soilbreaker up, only to have it caught and held.

“The warrior has already impressed the producer.” Salomen's voice was low and right next to her ear. “And not by digging pipe.”

The hold on her tool was released, but Tal stood unmoving. Salomen chuckled quietly and walked back to her spade, resuming her work without another glance. Shaking her head, Tal swung the soilbreaker down, enjoying the satisfying
thud
as it sank in. “If this is how you treat your field workers, I have a sudden understanding of why they're so loyal to you.”

“If I treated all my field workers that way, I'd have had more than just five invitations to bond.”

Tal left her tool buried and turned. “You've had
five
bond offers?”

“Mm-hm. Why don't you take a break and let me catch up with you?”

“Don't try to distract me. Why didn't you accept any of them?”

“Because I knew they came less from desire to bond with me and more from desire to bond with my land.”

“Well, I can't say they were fools. Your land is beautiful.”

Salomen paused, then resumed digging.

“But I
can
say they were blind to its greatest value.”

The shy pleasure that came from Salomen made Tal want to walk over and kiss her, but she was still feeling cautious about those empathic flares.

“And you?”

She almost didn't hear the question as she watched Salomen's smooth, sure movements. “What? Oh. None.”

She regretted the answer when Salomen stopped and straightened; she had been enjoying her moment as a voyeur.

“None?” Salomen said incredulously.

“Until recently, I thought I was bonded to Alsea. There was no room for others, and no one tried to convince me otherwise.”

“What changed?”

“I thought you were catching up with me.”

Salomen sank her spade into the soil and left it standing. “Shek the pipe. What changed?”

“Do you speak that way around Jaros?”

“Andira!”

Laughing, Tal gave in. “Micah gave me a different point of view.”

“Colonel Micah actually convinced you of something?”

“He was pointing a disruptor at my heart at the time. It got my attention.”

“What?”

The outrage accompanying the single word made Tal regret her joke. “Not with serious intent. Micah has been my instructor and my friend all my life, and though our roles have changed, he still teaches me now and again. He needed to make me listen to him. I'd let myself go down a bad path.”

“What in Fahla's name could you have done to deserve that?” Salomen was working herself into a protective fury, and Tal guiltily enjoyed it. It was rather pleasant to see that anger on her behalf for once.

“He had good reason. I was allowing personal issues to interfere with my duties as Lancer.”

“And he could find no better way of drawing your attention to this fact than threatening you with a deadly weapon?”

Look out, Micah, Tal thought. Pray she never hears about the immobilizer!

“It was a demonstration of the potential costs of my behavior,” she said. “I'd put my need for solitude above my need for protection.” Salomen's brow furrowed, and she rephrased. “I slipped my Guards. Repeatedly. Twice a nineday for two moons, actually. Micah was showing me how easy it would be for someone to kill me if I continued to disregard my own safety. It was a memorable lesson.”

Salomen shook her head. “You warriors really are a breed apart, aren't you?”

“I don't think so. The methods of instruction might be different, but the lessons being taught are much the same. Responsibility, duty, proper behavior. And sometimes even the methods aren't so different. Your brother received a rather physical lesson just yesterday, with your approval.”

“Hm.” Salomen regarded her appraisingly. “You
are
occasionally right.”

“I have a suspicion that I should be recording this conversation. Will you ever say that to me again?”

“Certainly.” Salomen turned back to her spade. “The very next time you're right. And you'll have plenty of time to anticipate it, since it will likely be several cycles.”

Tal made no answer; she was occupied with watching Salomen's body in motion. But as she stood waiting, a quick smile crossed her face. Salomen had just referred to their relationship in the long term.

CHAPTER 46
That useless little farm

 

Sunsa Aldirk was convinced that
he had the most difficult job on the planet. As Chief Counselor of Alsea he should have been the right hand of the Lancer, advising her on matters of state and knowing that his advice would be accepted for the wisdom it was. After all, he had been moving in the upper levels of Alsean politics for many cycles now and spoke from a position of great experience. Unfortunately, Lancer Tal was notoriously inconsistent in her attitude toward his advice. Sometimes she accepted it. Other times, like today, she was obdurate.

“Find another way, Aldirk.”

“Lancer Tal, you cannot respond properly from that holding. You must return to Blacksun permanently.”

“No, I must not,” she said sharply. “I'm happy to fly here for Council sessions or strategy meetings, and I'll make the necessary public appearances. Schedule them together, so I can conclude them in a three-day tour. Otherwise, nothing on this agenda requires me to leave Hol-Opah for more than half a day, and the statements can be recorded there as well.”

He stifled a sigh and glanced through the wall of windows at her back. Across the State Park, the dome of Blacksun Temple gleamed in the sunlight. Why she was insisting on minimizing her time here, in the seat of power, he could not understand.

“Given the behavior of some of the Councilors today,” he said, “don't you think it would be wiser to keep a closer eye on them?”

“That's what I have you for. Most of that was useless arm waving anyway.” She paused. “Though I'd like to know what Parser's up to. Shantu's motion to delay implementation didn't surprise me. He may be a little too in love with the power of his position, but he's always had Alsea's best interests in mind. But Parser was just as strongly for implementation last moon as he's suddenly against it today, and for him to support Shantu…”

Aldirk agreed. Those two were never on the same side.

“He doesn't believe the coalition's forecast any more than I do,” she finished. “He's planning something.”

“I'll see what I can find out.” Aldirk made a note on his reader card. He wasn't surprised that Lancer Tal had seen through Parser's front even with the emotional interference of a full Council chamber. Her empathic abilities were a powerful political weapon, and she was not afraid to use them. It was one of the things he admired most about her.

And one of the things he admired least was her intransigence when their opinions didn't match.

“The Councilors may be arm waving, but they're still a reflection of public opinion,” he said. “The people of Alsea are polarized. They need your guidance.”

“I'm aware of that, and they'll receive it. I'm merely saying that I don't need to abandon my obligation at Hol-Opah to do it.”

“What obligation? You owe that holding nothing.”

“I owe Raiz Opah a moon of my time. To date I have fulfilled a little more than half of that.”

“I hardly think you can be held accountable for this ludicrous challenge when an entire cycle of preparation is threatened and people are giving in to fear. This is stirring up the fringe as well. They've been waiting for an excuse to pounce.”

“I hold myself accountable.”

“Warriors!” He threw up his hands. “Honor above everything, while the world falls apart.”

She smiled for the first time. “The world is not falling apart. A coalition of economists made a statement that's getting more attention than it deserves. That's all. We'll deal with it and move on to the next crisis, which will no doubt also be of planet-shattering proportions. And I won't let that one dictate my life, either.”

When she spoke in those tones, he knew she would not budge. There was nothing left to do but accede and begin scheduling around her time on that useless little farm. At least he had gotten a concession of half a day; he could work with that.

“Very well. My next item is the hullskin-eating nanoscrubbers. I'm pleased to report that the second iteration is complete. If the Voloth get their hands on our existing design and somehow neutralize it, we now have a backup version in reserve.”

“Excellent!” Her eyes and tone brightened. “Then I can cross that off my list. What about the law mandating their continuing development?”

“The draft is on my desk now. I expect it to be ready for Council debate by this time next nineday.”

“There will be no debate. On this matter the castes are of one accord.”

“Which might be the first time in modern history that's happened,” Aldirk said.

“I know. We should put a plaque on the Chamber wall to commemorate it.”

Smiling at the thought, he glanced at his reader card. “Ah, you'll appreciate this as well. Chief Kameha informs me that the construction process for the carbon nanotubes is proceeding faster than he expected. He believes we'll be able to launch the seed cable for the space elevator in another four moons.”

“Really? That means we could have the full cable finished six moons earlier than we thought. We may have to speed up construction on the magnetic rail system and the elevator itself. And I'll need to speak with Ambassador Solvassen about scheduling the placement of the counterweight. Remind me to thank the Chief again for that brilliant idea.”

Chief Kameha had suggested that instead of the usual methods for creating a counterweight at the far end of the elevator cable—capturing an asteroid or constructing something on-planet and then hoisting it up—they could simply use existing battle debris from the destruction of the first Voloth invasion group. Accordingly, when the Protectorate clean-up crew arrived to clear their orbital space, they collected the pieces with the greatest mass, sealed them together into one solid chunk, and temporarily parked it in geosynchronous orbit. It had worked well for the clean-up crew, which had to transport far less debris, and for Alsea, which had a ready-made counterweight waiting to be slotted into place.

“Poaching Chief Kameha from the
Caphenon
crew was definitely one of your signature achievements,” Aldirk said approvingly.

“I didn't poach him; why does everyone keep saying that? I just made him an offer that matched up with his own desires.”

“And in the process lured away one of the Protectorate's best engineers. Which is the definition of poaching.”

Lancer Tal smiled and shook her head. “Fine. I poached him, and Eroles thinks I nudged him into the builder caste, which is why she stopped criticizing my decision to break Fahla's covenant and actually seems somewhat sympathetic to the veterans now. Sometimes I think Fahla is watching all this with particular enjoyment. I get credit for the things I didn't do and none at all for the things I did.”

“Which is the definition of being a Lancer.”

“Nobody told me that when I started,” she grumbled.

“I believe I did,” he said, fronting his amusement with long practice.

He went down his list, crossing some items off and making notes next to others. On the whole, it was a productive meeting. When he returned to his office, he would begin preparations for the Lancer's state media conference and her subsequent four-city tour. The more visible she was in response to the economist crisis, the better the situation would be.

“One more thing,” he said, setting aside his reader card. “The items you asked for.” Reaching into the satchel at his side, he withdrew two small boxes, identical in every way but for the designs etched in their tops.

“Ah, thank you.” She took them with a fond smile. “I'd actually forgotten about these with all that's happened in the last few days. Micah will be glad to see his, I'm sure.” The smile turned slightly wicked.

As she opened her sword case, Aldirk discreetly rolled his eyes. One thing all warriors seemed to have in common was their fascination with weaponry, no matter how outdated. Swords were useless in modern warfare, and yet sword makers still did a brisk business, manufacturing blades for enthusiastic warriors the world over.

The Lancer withdrew her well-worn grip from its case. Unlike many grips he had seen, hers was not fancy or overly engraved. She preferred a plain grip with grooves designed for a secure hold, not decoration. Of that, at least, Aldirk could approve. The swords of some warriors were so ornate that they could not possibly be of use in a sparring match. The only mark of distinction on Lancer Tal's grip was her family crest, discreetly engraved in two places.

He twitched when the blade shot out of the grip with a metallic
shhinng
.

“Oh, I've missed this,” she said. “I'm looking forward very much to a little exercise.” She swept the sword through a few moves, then retracted the blade and replaced the grip in her case. “You always remember everything, even when I don't. I appreciate that.”

He blinked, pleased with the compliment. “I'm merely doing my duty.”

“You're very good at your duty.” She nodded at him. “If there's nothing else, I have some calls to make.”

He knew a dismissal when he heard one. “There is nothing else. For now,” he added.

“Isn't that always the case,” she said.