Broken Vision (37 page)

"I'm the one who was just released from the med clinic. Shouldn't you be catering to my
every whim?"

She snuggled the cover around her shoulders. "Don't think so. This was your idea. You
made me accompany you. You cheated by not telling me your memory had returned. You just wore
me out with all that...ah...exercise. I have no whim-catering desire left in me. You're on your
own."

"Huh. That's what I remember--an uncooperative mate. My memory really is coming back.
I also remember something else." He leaned over her, his face now a serious mask. "A conversation
we need to have."

It had been leading up to this all along. Her body responded with an adrenaline rush.

He smoothed back the hair from her face with gentle hands. "Why?" was all he said.

She knew what he asked, and she swallowed and tried to gather thoughts that had seemed
so clear once, but were now elusive. "We have such different lives," she blurted. "I'm no good for
you or your career. You must know that. It was hard enough when I thought you had feelings for
me. When you lost your memory and looked at me with nothing in your eyes, I couldn't face that
kind of future."

"You're not a coward, my love. And our lives are not so very different. We work for a goal
that is ultimately the same."

"But you follow the dictates of a very rigid Coalition." She tried not to let his unexpected
endearment distract her. "I take actions, that are often in direct opposition to the Coalition's
mandates, to get results. You put me in lock-up for treason."

He actually smiled. "There is that. Perhaps we should make you as legitimate as
Morgon?"

"What?"

"Your uncle is not the rebel you think he is. He's a liberator under the auspices of the
Coalition."

"What does that mean?"

"He goes where he wants and does what he needs to do, all in the service of the Coalition,
but with direction from no one. He has a powerful, very unique responsibility. When he recruited
you, he tried to get you classified in a similar capacity, but the council thought you were too
inexperienced. They may have a different view now."

"He's been legitimate all along?" The concept of the Council endorsing covert operations
against any one of the nine nations was difficult to grasp. Then again, it was a political body. Why
should she be so surprised?

"Yes. He just couldn't tell you or anyone else. Even today, your father and mine don't
know what he is."

The implications were enormous. "The council did recognize the Taragon problem," she
whispered.

"Partially. Morgon had difficulty gaining collective acceptance. Not everyone was
convinced of the extent of the problem and there was no consensus on how to defuse the situation.
Some problems can't be dealt with openly. Taragon is a fractured nation. The solution is not clear,
nor easy, nor fast."

An image of the sha-priestess standing in her temple, arms lifted in triumph, filled
Magean's head. "You'll never be safe as long as Nargune lives."

"There's a universal bounty on her now. She has nowhere to hide. She'll be in custody soon
enough. We--"

Maegan gripped his forearms and dug in her nails. He had to understand. "We don't know
how close she has to be to attack you as she did on the Pallas Five dock. Was she on the asteroid?
Was she anywhere at all in the Belt? Why did she attack at that time? She wanted us to know she's
alive. She's up to something, Alerik."

"I know, and we're working on it," he said soothingly. "This attack reversed some of my
memory loss. For Morgon as well. She may not have as much control of her powers as she
thinks."

"Or it was deliberate. You and Morgon are very important to her." Maegan closed her eyes
and forced her thoughts back to the nightmare of the stark white temple with its obscene blood-red
mottled columns.

And then she remembered.

"Blazing starpits!" She shoved him back and sat up. "She said she had four."

"Four what?"

"Four council members. She included you and Morgon. She has two others."

Alerik frowned. "No one's missing."

"There was no one else in that temple, I'm almost certain. They must be current sitting
members."

Her mate shook his head. "Hard to believe."

"Why? Why is she choosing council members or men close to the council? Power, that's
why." She poked him in the chest for emphasis. "You just told me Morgon has a very powerful
position. She can get into your minds. What happens when she has you all together in the same
place?"

"Cor's blood!" Alerik rolled off the sleeping platform and began to pull on his clothes.
"Have to talk with Morgon and Sharm. They're two cycles behind us in another vessel. The council
has convened a meeting on Magnilium. You should know your uncle turned down the governorship
of The Grogon Asteroid Belt to remain a liberator."

"How do you know all this when you've been in the healing pod?" Frustrated by the feeling
she was two steps behind, Maegan swung her legs to the floor and began to dress as well.

"Daily briefings." He was almost dressed. She hurried to catch up for fear he would leave
her behind. "My terms for going back into the pod."

"Another thing I didn't know," she snapped, and turned her back to grab her tunic from
where it somehow had become wrapped around a corner of the sleeping platform. She threw it
down again when she saw the rip he had put in it earlier, and hurried to grab another from storage.
"Do we have a marriage partnership or a good, old-fashioned, male-dominated Mariltar
bonding?"

In a heartbeat, a band of magnasteel clamped around her arm, and Alerik hauled her
around and up against his body. His eyes and temple mark had turned a dark sapphire, a sure sign
of strong emotion.

"Make no mistake, we have a partnership," he said tightly. "Memories or not, this bond
will never be dissolved. I will protect you with my life and love you with every fiber of my being.
You will not know everything about me, as I likely will never know everything about you, but we
will share all the important things. The briefings were not of significance when I knew I could fill
you in. It was more critical for me to know if there was hope after your unilateral decision to end
the partnership."

He loved her?

Heat and chills alternately wracked her body. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her
chest. She softened against him. "I don't want to be protected," she said softly. "I want to walk
beside you."

"I know." His eyes lightened. "But leave me at least the illusion."

"I don't want to end the marriage partnership either." She reached up to cup his face.
"You're stuck with me. There will be times you'll regret it. And I will without a doubt stall your
career."

"My career is nothing without my bonded mate," he said, his mouth a breath away from
hers. "And I will never regret for one nan my partnership with you." He brushed his lips across the
tip of her nose. "Do you think, once in a while, I could be that old-fashioned dominating
male?"

She snickered. "Maybe."

He settled his lips over hers, and in that simple, loving, all too-brief contact lay a thousand
promises.

"Let's go commandeer the captain's secure room to contact Morgon and Sharm. We need a
strategy."

Margaine Confluence
Magnilium

Magnilium was a fortress with a magnafield that served as a natural defense and required
an experienced pilot vessel to escort visiting vessels through it. The city was built into the natural
hollow spires resulting from ancient volcanic activity that pierced thick jungle, filled with odd little
creatures.

Maegan stood on the balcony of the habitat unit assigned to her and Alerik and, in the
fading light, watched two kitlings squabble with each other in a large fan-shaped tree. Their large
round ears, as big as their hairless, vermilion bodies, propelled them in short bursts of speed
through the canopy.

A warm breeze blew, bringing with it the various scents of cooking, the strong, distinctive
perfume of the noliem blossoms that only opened at dusk, and a tangy unidentifiable smell.

She shivered, although she wasn't cold at all. An odd feeling had been bothering her all
day. Her nerves were as jittery as a sasscat's. There was no reason for it.

Maybe that was the problem. Life on Magnilium was routine and predictable. The
politicians met and debated policy. In her opinion, their mates, a fair number of them at least, spent
too much of their time in meaningless, selfish activities. The Coalition Council was too isolated,
too elite, too far removed from the concerns of the nations it supposedly served.

Put the council on Treaine, she had argued with Alerik. Let them see how a true slice of
the populations of the nine nations got along together. He disagreed, maintaining the isolation was
necessary for clear, unbiased decision-making.

Unbiased! She snorted as she thought about that argument.

The kitlings stopped their squabbling and curled up together in a crook of the tree, their
ears overlapping and blanketing them both. Just like Alerik and her. No matter how fiercely they
argued, they always ended up in bed.

"Now how..." A rough voice sounded in her ear as a hand landed on her bottom and
smoothed over its curve. "...am I supposed to get through the evening, with you looking like
this?"

She smiled and pushed back against him. The evening, which was scheduled with one of
her least favorite activities, might be salvageable after all. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Came in, cleaned up and am now presentable. Or I was," Alerik added as she rubbed her
bottom against his groin.

"We can stay home?"

"Nice try." He leaned over her, forcing her to bend forward, and placed his hands on either
side of her on the balcony railing. "But we can't miss this one."

"Are we going to be late then?" she said with feigned politeness. The ultra fine fabric of
her evening gown was an illusion of protection against the hard ridge of him pressing against
her.

"Mmm." He ran his finger down her naked spine. "No." His hands skimmed down her
sides and brushed against the sides of her breasts.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Just checking." He fondled her bottom.

"For what?" She braced her hands beside his on the railing and renewed her wriggling, in
hopes of changing the outcome of the evening.

Her strategy earned a gentle slap on the bottom. "Let's get this over with."

If Alerik had been close to succumbing, he was in full control by the time they walked
onto the suspended platform that was their dinner venue. The platform was connected by a single
archway to one of the hollow spires, and was surrounded on all its other sides by thick vegetation
filled with tiny colored lights.

The small group assembled comprised an assortment of politicos: a Merlon, a Liartian, two
Bogasills and two Sorons. She quickly realized she was the only mate. "Why do I have to be here?"
she muttered.

"Because you were invited."

"Why isn't anyone else's mate here?"

"Behave. You know this is a working meal to discuss Taragon. You have knowledge no
one else has."

A soft chime announced another arrival. "He knows as much as I do." Maegan nudged
Alerik as Morgon stepped through the archway. "And why is he here? I thought the strategy was to
keep you separated?"

"We've had several meetings together. The magnafield enhances the extraordinary security
measures in place on Magnilium. The risk is acceptable."

Morgon, on his way across the platform toward them, paused to greet the other guests.

"Until your brains are fried again." Maegan's nerves were doing the jittery dance she so
hated. She wanted the evening to be over.

"Calm, my love. There's no threat here with the possible exception of Counselor Triak. If
he ogles your chest again, I may have to do something about it. Come, our hostess is here."

The group was making its way to the floating disks that bore the evening meal. A tall
woman, dressed in a dazzling evening gown of amber spisilk stood to the side and greeted each
guest.

She seemed familiar, and yet she wasn't. She greeted Maegan with the same welcoming
smile she had given the other guests. Only as Maegan looked into her eyes and took note of her
bald head beneath a cap of shimmering beads did realization hit her.

Their hostess was from Taragon.

Her nerves went crazy.

"We need to go home," she murmured desperately, as she and Alerik seated themselves. "I
don't feel well."

He covered her hand with his large, warm one and put his head close to hers. "You're
profiling, Maegan. She's a counselor and has been since the council was formed. She's one of the
strongest advocates for reform on Taragon."

"There's something wrong here."

"It's just a working meal. It will be over soon enough."

Their hostess began with an introductory summary of the issues they were debating.
Maegan listened with half an ear and tried to get Morgon's attention. The food in front of her had
no appeal. She didn't think her stomach would hold it down, but when Alerik nudged her, she
forced herself to put a small slice of tamboreen fruit in her mouth.

The debate began. Morgon and Alerik were quickly immersed in the discussion and
Morgon still hadn't picked up on her silent signals.

The evening wore on and her nerves calmed. Alerik was right. There was no threat here.
Even Counselor Triak had stopped looking at her chest as the discussion drew his attention.

Maegan reached for another of the small, delicious canna cakes and froze as a peculiar
light-headedness seized her. The platform fell abruptly silent.

With great effort, she lifted her head to study the group. Everyone, including their hostess,
seemed frozen in place. Mouths hung open; hands were stilled in mid-gesture or in the process of
lifting food. Time had simply stopped. A ninth dimension vid game was less bizarre.