Without a Front (36 page)

Micah held out his hand, palm up. Without hesitation Tal clasped it, and he absorbed her grateful affection with a smile.

“Above all else,” he said quietly, “you are my friend.”

“Above all else, you are mine.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And friends tell each other everything, right?”

“Oh, give it up, Micah.”

CHAPTER 55
Debate points

 

Evenmeal was a noisy affair,
with Jaros eager to share what he had learned in school that day and the adults discussing the upcoming caste house meeting, the imminent rain and potential crop damage, and Tal's speaking tour. Only Herot was quiet, picking at his food and excusing himself as soon as was marginally polite. After the meal, Shikal, Nikin, and Micah retired to the parlor with a bottle of spirits, Salomen left for her meeting, and Jaros and Tal went upstairs to do homework.

Tal wished she could trade with Jaros; algebra would have been far more enjoyable than checking Miltorin's notes and finalizing her speech. Judging by the emotions she could sense down the hall, Jaros did not share her opinion. She stopped for a moment to focus on him, smiling at the indignant color to his emotional presence. He was clearly put out that a calculation hadn't worked properly. She knew exactly how he felt.

A hantick later, she gave up. She had honed that speech until her eyes were crossing; it was good enough for now. Her subsequent efforts to read through the day's reports and dispatches were also of limited success, until finally she tossed the reader card aside. She was done being Lancer for today. Of course, throwing over her work left her with little to do except think about Salomen, and though that was normally a pleasant occupation, tonight it left her unsettled. No sooner did she let her mind wander than she felt glimmers of Salomen's emotions, frustration and irritation being the strongest. It wasn't surprising—Salomen had anticipated a loud and difficult meeting—but it made relaxation impossible. In an effort to banish the tickling emotions, she fetched a cup of shannel from the kitchen and began perusing her bookshelves for something to read. One title caught her eye; she remembered Aldirk referring to it as “dreck and drivel.” Figuring that was precisely what she needed, she sprawled out in the window seat with the book in one hand and her shannel in the other. Aldirk was right: the book was indeed dreck. She was guiltily enjoying it.

Focusing on the adventures of the warrior protagonist enabled her to shut out external emotions to such an extent that she didn't feel anyone approach. For the first time since Tal's arrival at Hol-Opah, Salomen had to knock.

“Enter,” she called, sitting up and looking around for a place to put her empty shannel cup. She was just tucking it onto a bookshelf when Salomen opened the door.

“You must be preoccupied. Still working on your speech?”

“Ah…no.” Tal shamefacedly held up the book. “I was sick to death of it, so I found something to take my mind to a more interesting place.”

Salomen walked across the room, plucked the book out of Tal's hand, and smiled. “This is a classic! Mother must have read this nine times. She had a soft place in her heart for strong, adventurous warrior types.”

Tal accepted the book back. “And how many times did you read it?”

“I shall never have any secrets again, I can see that. All right, I may have read it once or twice.”

Tal cocked an eyebrow and waited.

“Fine. I think I've read it four times.”

“Four, really? How interesting. One might think you have a soft place in your heart for strong, adventurous warrior types.”

“One might,” Salomen agreed. “Do you know any? Perhaps you could introduce me.”

“As soon as I meet one, I'll be sure to tell you. In the meantime…it's good to see you.”

“Did you miss me?” Her tone was teasing, but she sobered when Tal nodded.

“I felt you, and it just reinforced the fact that you weren't here. This is the first evening we haven't been together since I arrived.”

Salomen sat beside her in the window seat, and Tal shifted over to make room. “You felt me in Granelle? It's getting stronger.”

“I know. How did the meeting go?”

“Not good.” Salomen rested her head against the window and sighed. “Nothing I said convinced them. I was counseling patience and trust and pointing out that the mechanics of the transition are far more complicated than we're seeing, so we shouldn't draw simple conclusions. But Gordense was counseling anger and righteousness, and that's always more attractive. He said that even if I could convince them that
we
are not seeing all the complexities of the transition, the economist coalition certainly is, and if they're saying it will be the catalyst for a global economic meltdown, who are we as simple producers to question that? I said that we simple producers were capable of thinking for ourselves, and not only that but we had a moral obligation to do so. He said he was thinking for himself, and the conclusion he'd drawn was that you would lead Alsea into destruction and our moral obligation was to stop you.”

“Stop me? Do I need to send Micah and Gehrain to question him?”

“No, no, no.” Salomen shook her head. “He didn't mean it that way. I misspoke. He meant, stop you from releasing the matter printer technology without taking the steps outlined by the coalition.”

“Are you certain? If that's an assumption, it's not one that I can safely accept.”

“It's not an assumption. I'm not yet good enough at blocking to keep out the stronger emotions, and Gordense's emotions tend to be strong regardless of what he's feeling. He's a pompous fanten, but he's no danger to you. He just loves the sound of his own voice. The only thing he loves more than that is a good crowd to listen to him bloviate, and tonight was a good crowd. He was in his element. I was not.”

Tal reached for her hand. “You're tired.”

“Dead tired. Do you suppose I could rest my head on your shoulder without killing both of us?”

“I'm willing to risk it if you are.”

Salomen scooted up next to her, and Tal pulled her in close. Resting their heads together, she projected serenity and calm. She could sense Salomen relaxing as she gently brushed the hair away from her face. “Safe so far,” she whispered.

Salomen nodded, her eyes shut. “Just so you know, I can feel exactly what you're doing.”

“Touching your hair?”

“Don't be obtuse.”

Tal smiled. “You're such a sweet-talker.”

“Only with you. And thank you; it feels wonderful.”

“It's my pleasure.”

“Do you know what the best part of this is?”

“What?”

“I can actually feel it. I mean, that doing this is making you happy. And that feels almost as good as the rest.”

Tal dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Then we're both happy.”

“Mm-hm. Which is an enormous improvement to my evening, I can assure you.”

They sat together in silence, enjoying the closeness. Tal lightly caressed Salomen's arm and side, feeling her gradually slumping even further, and thought she could stay here for a very long time.

“It came up,” Salomen said.

Tal pulled her head back. “What came up?”

“Our relationship. Before I could utter a word about it. Gordense was on the offensive from the moment the meeting began. He asked me what would possess me to risk my good name just for the thrill of being your local entertainment.”

Tamping down her first reaction—which was to look for her disruptor, Micah, and a transport—Tal asked, “What did you tell him?”

“That the only reason my name was still good was because I'd had the sense to reject his bond offer.”

Tal grinned; her tyree could take care of herself! “Ouch. That must have hurt him right where he's most sensitive.”

“Oh, it did. He sputtered a bit. It went downhill from there.” She sighed. “I had such good intentions of taking the higher path, but…I've never been very good at turning away from a fight.”

“Did Bilsner walk out under his own power?”

Salomen lifted her head. “You're enjoying this!”

“Well…” Tal tried to tamp down her grin without success. “I'm proud of you. You don't back down and you don't let anyone else push you. It's what attracted me to you in the first place—you have the heart of a warrior and the soul of a producer. I think Gordense Bilsner saw the warrior tonight. In fact, I'm willing to bet that's all of you he's ever seen.”

“You'd be right about that. He does seem to bring out the worst in me.”

Tal frowned. “The warrior part of you is the worst part?”

“Did I say that?”

“Quite clearly.”

“Hm.” Salomen leaned forward and kissed her with a slow, soft touch, pulling away before any possibility of a flash. “Which part do you think is the best?”

“Oh, no. I'm not getting trapped by that. You forget you're talking to the woman who runs Council sessions; I recognize verbal baiting when I see it.” She pulled Salomen in and reclaimed the kiss, then nibbled across a smoothly curving jaw before releasing her. “I also recognize diversion tactics. This is a very good one.”

“Thank you. I had an excellent instructor.”

“In diversion tactics? I think not.”

Several silent pipticks went by while they looked at each other. Tal was fascinated by the richness of Salomen's dark brown eyes, which were not one shade but several, lightening toward the center, where a golden ring encircled each pupil. It was the sort of detail only a lover could see, and she reveled in having that right. As Salomen stared back at her, Tal wondered what details she was seeing.

“I'm going to miss you,” Salomen said. “I was thinking about that on the way home—how when you first arrived, I was counting the days until you'd take your irritating self and your entourage and get off my land. And now you're leaving for three days and all I can think about is what a damn long time that is.”

“I've been thinking the same thing. I already missed you tonight; three days will be interminable. And on top of that, I feel guilty for leaving Hol-Opah right at the worst time.”

Salomen straightened and pulled away. “You must be joking. Hol-Opah is not your responsibility. Alsea is.”

“I know. But I made a promise.”

“You did not; you made a challenge.”

“True. But when I agreed to your counterchallenge, to me it was a promise.”

“Are all warriors as relentlessly hard on themselves as you?”

“Some of them, yes.”

“Warrior caste house meetings must be a jolly time for all, then.”

Tal laughed. “You'd be surprised. Someday I'll have to take you as a guest.”

“Perhaps I should have done that tonight. You would have been a more convincing speaker than I.”

“I disagree. I've heard you speak many times; you're very convincing. And in this instance I think a defense of my policies made more of an impact coming from you than they would have from me.”

Salomen sighed. “I don't know if it made an impact at all.”

“Give it time. People often need to think about something before it really sinks in. I don't expect my speaking tour to bring about instant results, but in a nineday the general opinion could be entirely different. In that same nineday, you may find your peers thinking differently as well.”

“I hope so. Of course,” Salomen added darkly, “none of this would be necessary if Darzen hadn't been so jealous. If I ever meet that woman, she would be wise to walk the other way.”

“Darzen wasn't jealous. She was angry.”

“You may be a highly trained empath, but when it comes to yourself, you don't always see clearly. She was jealous of your title.”

“I assume you plan to explain your reasoning for this rather interesting conclusion.”

“Of course.” Salomen pulled away, bringing her legs up on the cushion and resting her back against the opposite wall of the window seat. “Ah. Better.”

Tal watched in some bemusement. “Is this going to take so long that you have to get comfortable for it?”

Salomen ignored her. “We'll begin with point one. When your relationship began, she thought you were merely a Lancer's Guard. A respectable rank for a warrior, to be sure, but otherwise not too challenging for a highly placed economist who advises the second-largest city council in the world. You were of a manageable intellect and rank, or so she thought.”

Tal opened her mouth to object, but was silenced by Salomen's upraised hand.

“You asked me to explain, so do me the courtesy of allowing me the floor.”

“Yes, Raiz Opah,” Tal said with a grin. “You're bringing back fond memories of our delegate meetings.”

Salomen's serious expression broke for a moment before she recomposed herself. “Point two. The night of your breakup, when you began discussing matter printer issues, she assumed that you had gotten your ideas from the Lancer. She did not credit you with the necessary education or intellect to have produced those ideas on your own.”

“Now, that—”

“Point three,” Salomen continued. “When you proved that you did indeed have the intellect to have expanded on those ideas, she told you that you were wasted as a warrior and would be better suited as a…what?”

“Economist,” Tal answered grudgingly.

“Rather patronizing, don't you agree? Moving along to point four. When your true identity was revealed, what did she tell you? That you'd made a fool of her. Implying that she felt foolish for not knowing the true breadth of your capabilities, and perhaps implying that she would not have accepted you as a potential mate had she known that those capabilities were so advanced. After all, what did you hide? Your personality, your character traits, your intelligence?”

“Well, there was the little matter of my hair and eye color.” Tal crossed her arms and tried not to look as if she were enjoying herself.

Salomen waved that aside. “I'm talking about real characteristics. Things that make you who you are. You would still be Andira Tal if your eyes and hair were brown. You would not be Andira Tal if you were less articulate or intelligent, or if you were boorish or judgmental or unfair. Did you pretend to be any of these things?”