Broken Vision

By

Uncial Press       Aloha, Oregon
2011

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are
products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-119-6
ISBN 10: 1-60174-119-7

Broken Vision
Copyright © 2011 by Joy Clarke

Cover design
Copyright Š 2011 by Judith B. Glad
Background
photograph:
Open cluster in Cygnus: Heidi Schweiker, WIYN, NOAO,
AURA, NSF
In the Heart of the Tarantula Nebula
Credit: ESA, NASA,
ESO, & Danny LaCrue

All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in
whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter
invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher.

Published by Uncial Press,
an imprint of GCT, Inc.

Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com

To Alice, who reads everything I write before anyone else,
and
encourages me to keep writing anyway.

Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising
Grogon Asteroid Belt
Pallas
Four

"Counselor Shale?"

Her name reverberated in the silence of the large room and jerked her from a deep
concentration.

"Are you available?"

Her assistant knew better. Maegan Shale was tempted for just an instant to ignore the
interruption. Coryon's voice was calm and professional, but there was something about her tone.
Maegan had learned the hard way never to ignore those somethings.

She continued to study the holographic image of a complicated nav chart rotating in front
of the curved plexiwall of her office. It had yet to unlock the answer to a new safe route, and she
was almost out of time.

"What is it, Coryon?"

There! Right through the middle of the moon cluster of...

"No, sir-- Please. It would be better if the counselor met you down here. Please-- Maegan,
he's on his way up."

Blood of Cor!

She slammed her hand down on the vid screen panel and saw the nav chart wink out just as
the door to her office snapped open.

Too close. Too slieking close. Chills raced across her skin.

The man who strolled through the door into her office was large--head and shoulders taller
than she was, and she was above average. He looked familiar, but she had no appointments today.
How in the name of Sortor had he passed through building security?

"Counselor." He stepped out of the wedge of light cast by the open door into the shadows
of the room. "I hadn't realized Pallas Four was experiencing an energy crisis."

"I prefer to work without lumens, and I'm a little busy right now. My assistant will be
happy to schedule an appointment." And where was Coryon?

"That's the interesting thing." The male voice was deep, bittern-rough, without inflection.
It was clear he didn't find it interesting at all. "Your schedule seems to be quite full."

When had he moved? His bulk was closer to her survival pack and laserray than she was.
She could see the corner of the pack where it lay on the floor behind the vid screen console, right
where she had left it. Too many steps away. Who would have thought she might have to defend
herself inside her own office? On Pallas Four, the paradise destination of the Grogon Asteroid
Belt?

"I'm sure we can find something. Let me just check with my assistant--"

"Counselor Shale." He stood paces away from her pack and her ray, legs spread, arms
folded across his massive chest. "I've come a long way and I prefer we have our discussion
now."

A memory nudged her. She knew this man. The air of latent danger enveloping him would
be hard to forget. Where by the hearts of Crillac were Coryon and her security team? Her office
should have been swarming with bodies by now.

"I'm sorry," she said coolly. "I'm very busy. I can't just drop everything to--"

"Yes," he said, "I'm sure if you try very hard, you can."

There was another irritating nudge from her memory. She fought a surge of impatience and
tried to decide if there was anything about his bulk that suggested he was armed. The bigger they
were, the slower they moved generally. She might still be able to retrieve her pack. For the first
time, she wished the lumens were on. He stood in the deepest shadows in the room, whether by
coincidence or design, she wasn't sure.

"Very well." She gestured to a grouping of floating guest chairs behind him. "I can give
you two nans, no more. Please have a seat."

For a man who had just achieved his goal, he seemed remarkably unaffected. He stood
immobile, arms still crossed, just looking at her. Irritation cranked up a notch, even as the barrier in
her memory tore, then closed again. She didn't need this today.

Once again, she wondered where everyone was. The doorway stood illuminated and
empty.

"I prefer," he said, "to stand for now." Then he moved. Fast. His bulk cut the distance
between them in half, and along the way, he somehow managed to reach over to her vid screen
console and find the control that turned on every lumen in the room.

She blinked and squinted in the sudden brightness.

"Well, well. Maegan Shale. All grown up and a beauty just like her mother."

Dark hair with a hint of red in the harsh light, large body barely constrained by beige and
dark green matfiber breeches and a belted tunic. Knee-length boots. The style of dress was all too
familiar. He was all too familiar.

She jerked her gaze back to his face. "Do I know you?" She
had
met this man
before. A host of bedring creatures erupted to life in her stomach.

He smiled and tilted his head. A thick lock of dark hair moved just enough. Sapphire
gleamed in a three-quarter crescent on his temple. Sapphire eyes. Blood of Cor!

"Alerik!"

"So, you do remember. I was afraid I was about to get my feelings hurt."

Maegan's skin prickled at the smile that wasn't quite a smile. She doubted that the man had
ever had his feelings hurt. Not since he'd been a child in any event, and certainly never by a
woman. She doubted that he even had feelings. "What are you doing here?"

"Meeting with you, it would seem." His face was like chiseled granite--aristocratic,
arrogant, unmistakably pure Mariltar nobility. How could she have missed it? Of course, it wasn't
his face she'd been focused on.

"That's not what I meant, although it would be nice to be enlightened on that point as well.
What are you doing on Pallas Four?"

"So many questions." He moved again, this time away from her and back to the vid
console. Released from the intensity of the sapphire gaze, she felt tension turn to anxiety.

Alerik Mariltar. Everything she had run from, everything she had rebelled against,
everything that had driven her to build her life on Pallas Four, in a remote corner of the Crestar
System, and a galaxy away from her family on Treaine.

What was he doing here? The perfect son, an anointed clan heir of a ruling family of the
Mariltar Nation. Her liege lord, should he choose to invoke the ancient custom. Fires of Crillac,
what was he doing here?

He leaned over the console. "Coryon, is it?"

"Yes, sir?" Coryon's voice sounded strange and why wouldn't it? If Alerik Mariltar had
turned that sapphire gaze and gleaming smile on her, she wouldn't have stood a chance.

"We'll be a while. Counselor Shale and I have some catching up to do." Alerik turned his
head to flash perfect white teeth at Maegan. "Send in some food, please, and order for yourself and
my team."

"Yes, sir."

"And Coryon?"

"Sir?"

"Complete privacy, if you please."

"Yes, sir."

Maegan managed to get her feet unstuck from the floor and her frozen limbs working. She
leapt forward. "Now wait just a blessed nan. Coryon, you don't...I don't have time--"

He had closed off the comm link to her assistant. Coryon couldn't hear her. The door was
already closed.

Alerik stepped directly into her path. Blood of Cor, he was huge. He not only towered over
her, his shoulders were the width of a faron. If he kept coming, he could quite possibly crush her
like an insignificant bugbat and not even notice. She took an involuntary step to the side.

Something flickered in his expression, then was gone before she could decide if it was
anything more than satisfaction. Mariltar arrogance. Mariltar pride.

"You have time," he said, and stopped three paces in front of her, just as she was about to
take another step to the side--never backward--in the interests of self-preservation.

"Not today," she snapped. Really, not today. "I have two nans. For more than that, make an
appointment."

"I tried making an appointment," he said. He folded his arms again. "It didn't work. Nor
did the requests. Nor did the demands."

"It didn't...?" Maegan tried to jog her memory. It stuck in a repeating loop. "But only the--
Blazing starpits, you can't be!"

"Yes. I can be." His mouth stretched in an imitation of a smile. "I'm the new governor of
the Grogon Asteroid Belt."

* * * *

Green eyes blazed with fury in her stunned face. Alerik turned away to hide his
amusement.

"One would almost think," he said, as he strolled to the curved plexiwall of the room, "that
you have a problem with authority."

The view was stunning. Pallas Four's reputation as paradise was not exaggerated.

"Oh, yes. I remember now. You do have a problem with authority."

Lush gardens and sparkling aqua beaches weren't nearly as compelling as the woman in the
room. He pivoted to face her again. "Interesting and a touch ironic that you're the sole arbitrator
here, which means that you're the local authority on Pallas Four."

She tilted her chin. Her nostrils flared. Her body was rod-stiff. "What are you
implying?"

"Implying? Implications can be messy things. So let me make it quite clear, hmm?" He
stepped closer. "You run the largest corporation on Pallas Four and, in your spare time, you serve
as judge and jury for any disagreements that arise. Surely there's a conflict of interest in there
somewhere?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Governor, but if you'd spent any time at all studying the legal
system of Grogon, you'd know we do things a little differently here."

"And doing things differently includes ignoring your new chief, or is that just a result of
your problem with authority?"

If it were possible, Maegan's slender body stiffened even further. "Governor Meelor allows
his arbitrators to exercise the authorities given to us. He doesn't see the need for close oversight or
meetings."

Which was partly why Governor Meelor was now enjoying an early retirement.

"I'm not Governor Meelor. You work for me now. When I request a meeting, I expect to be
accommodated."

Even pink-faced with anger, Maegan Shale would turn heads. Her Mariltar heritage,
courtesy of her father, was evident in the glowing dark emerald eyes and high cheekbones. Strong,
sharp Mariltar features had been softened and rounded by her Earth mother's genetic contribution.
Her mother had also passed along her signature blonde hair, but not her tendency to showcase it.
Maegan's hair was drawn into a tight, heavy coil at her nape, but the smooth cap of her head
gleamed like white-gold prismfoils in the bright lights of the room.

An attractive woman, but trouble. Maegan Shale had never fully subscribed to Mariltar
doctrine. She had too much of her mother's stubbornness and rebelliousness in her. As he watched
her visible struggle to control herself, he wondered dispassionately if, this time, she would
conform. She had so much more to lose.

"Yes, sir." She tilted her head, and he noticed, for the first time, the dark shadows under
her eyes. "I apologize. What can I do for you?"

Very good. The rebel had learned to show superficial conformity, at least. He nodded an
acknowledgment. "There are several issues I wish to discuss. Pallas Seven has experienced a
sudden, extraordinary increase in traffic lately. There seems to be no single explanation and there
are concerns at some levels. I'd like your thoughts. And before you send me to the Pallas Seven
counselor, you should know I'm requesting information from all the Pallas asteroids. This impacts
all of you."

Her eyes flickered. Her body lost its rigid stiffness. She waited. Interesting.

"I'd also like your report on the state of the economy here."

"We file every rotation with the--"

"Those are numbers. I want the story behind the numbers."

Her lips tightened. Her hand clenched and unclenched in the folds of her long skirt. She
was beginning to realize this was not going to be a short meeting. He was beginning to realize that
her reluctance to meet might truly stem from an overbooked schedule. Why would the authority in
paradise, the smallest of the asteroids in the system, be so pressed for time?