Earthrise (Her Instruments Book 1) (20 page)

“I didn’t imagine so,” Zhemala said and took a long sip from her goblet. “I won’t require your help in delivering her baby—she’s not close to her time—only in reminding her to care for herself, to eat the right foods and take the right supplements, and to ease her anxieties about being a mother. I will talk bluntly, sir. I do not require a doctor. I require a babysitter whose degrees in medicine will lend him a lulling air of authority. I will pay your captain well for you to deal with her histrionics, for all of us are beginning to find them tiresome.”

“I can play the nursemaid,” Hirianthial said, forcing his discomfort aside. “But I must point out that I am no woman. How can your co-wife believe me if I have no direct experience with what she will soon undergo?”

“The midwife has not calmed her, despite her many successes and her own long line of children,” Zhemala said. “So perhaps the girl’s habit of obedience to men will shut her up in your presence.” She sighed. “I would have brought in someone from the city, but you are close, you are convenient, and you’ll be leaving... so I need not worry about alienating a neighbor.” She managed a faint smile, one that didn’t rise far enough above her veil to touch her eyes. “Her mother died giving birth to her second sister. The girl is convinced the baby will kill her. We’re tired of telling her otherwise. Perhaps you will have better luck.”

The irony of the situation was heavy-handed enough to off-set the reminder of his grief. Hirianthial said, “You’ll have to check with Captain Eddings—”

“—of course.”

“But if she approves, I will do my best,” Hirianthial said.

Zhemala smiled and left him with the pitcher. He poured himself another serving and watched the butterflies.

“Reese!”

She paused at the entrance to the hall to find the twins trotting toward her. She’d almost escaped without anyone seeing her, which would have suited her fine... her talk with Hirianthial had left her angry and unsettled.

Sascha stopped first. “I was going to show you and Hirianthial to your rooms, but I get back to the Moon Patio and find you both gone! Where are you going? And where’s Hirianthial?”

“I’m heading into town,” Reese said. “I don’t know where Hirianthial is.”

“Town already?” Sascha asked. “You’re not even settled!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the ship’s in need of repair,” Reese said, clipping her data tablet onto her belt.

“Can’t it wait a single day?” Irine asked. “Mamer’s preparing a glorious dinner!”

“Dinner’s not for another five or six hours, unless you people call lunch dinner,” Reese said.

“We can’t lift off for an entire season, though,” Sascha said. “What’s the point of rushing?”

“The point of rushing is that the faster I get this done, the more relaxed I’ll be. I hate having things hanging over my head. So tell me which way, fuzzies, or I’ll have to figure it out on my own and you know how cranky
that
will make me.”

Irine sighed. “Go down Market Avenue. The port’s at the end of it.”

“That’s it?” Reese asked, lifting a brow.

“Hey, that’s just how Hirianthial looks sometimes,” Irine crowed, tail waving.

“What are you talking about?”

“The thing with the brow,” Irine said.

As if sensing Reese’s forthcoming tantrum, Sascha hastily said, “Market Avenue’s the largest street in town. You won’t miss it. It’s in the middle of everything.”

“Right,” Reese said. And added, “I do not look like him.”

“Of course you don’t,” Sascha said, pushing Irine deeper into the hall. “Enjoy your walk.”

Reese eyed them both, then shrugged and headed toward the nearest exit. Finding it wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped, but she managed to navigate out without having to ask one of the naked people how to get to the street. Blood and Freedom, but a little clothing wouldn’t have hurt them, would it? Except that she had to admit that it was hot, so hot that it distracted her from staring at the size of the sky. She was used to climate-controlled environments, not places where the light was accompanied by heat dense enough she bet it could melt plastic. By the time she reached the edge of town, Reese regretted her black jumpsuit more than she could describe.

Market Avenue was indeed easy to find, though not needing directions didn’t save her from the flirtatious calls from a few bystanders. Reese fumbled her responses and escaped while they laughed. Blushing only made her feel hotter, so she found the first grocer and jumped down the stairs to buy something to drink. It was a little strange at first to be halfway underground while inside, but if the Harat-Shar claimed it made it easier to cool their buildings she wasn’t going to argue. Especially when arguing prolonged conversations that inevitably involved a proposition.

Back up on the street Reese began the long walk to the end of town, grateful that the profusion of stores and people made it easier to ignore the vastness of the world around her. Sascha’s claim about Zhedeem being off-worlder-friendly seemed true; for every five Harat-Shar strolling the street in veils and flowing pants there was one alien. Humans, Seersa, Karaka’An, Asanii, the occasional Ciracaana flowing past on four feet... quite a selection. With the crowd so dense and so many people intent on errands, no Harat-Shar pounced the off-worlders either, which went a long way toward making Reese relax.

No, it was entirely unfair that she was enjoying the shade of the palms and the vibrancy of the passersby and the jabber of different languages amid the more common use of Universal. It was also entirely unfair that there were so many fascinating and exotic shops, from restaurants smelling of unfamiliar but enticing spices to vendors of luxury items Reese had never been able to afford. Expensive cloth. Boutiques selling haute couture so bizarre she couldn’t figure out how it stayed on the solidigraphs. Art in blazing colors appropriate to the planet. Personal hardware that made her battered old data tablet look positively prehistoric. Cosmetics appropriate for whatever kind of face you had, whether covered with skin, fur or scales.

She managed to ignore it all with only the faintest pangs of longing. Her account simply couldn’t clothe her in hand-woven brocade or buy her jeweled sandals. She was, in fact, feeling proud of her own willpower when it failed.

Her feet took her down the stairs and her hand pushed the glass door before her, and she was standing inside a real bookstore before she realized where she was. And oh, the smell of paper!

“May I help you?” a cheerful woman asked. She had spots... leopard spots? Something like that. What little Reese knew about Terran cats she’d learned because of Harat-Shar patterning. The woman also had a veil draped over her nose and chin and throat.

“Books,” Reese managed. “These are real books?”

“Of every kind,” the woman agreed. “From the electronic sort you can order in squirts to hand-made, hand-painted, hand-lettered curiosities from around the Alliance.”

“Oh my,” Reese said around a tight throat. “I’ve never held a real book in my hands.”

“Never?” the woman said, eyes round. “Virgin hands! We should remedy that at once! Come along.”

In the coldest, driest section of the store near the back, Reese found herself holding a real book with a leather cover, leaves of raw silk that chafed beneath her fingers and glossy ink she could still smell, pungent and rich. Her reverence inspired the woman to hand her yet another, and another, each one more glorious than the next until finally Reese sat on a bench and said, “I can’t possibly see any more. I’ll die of wonder.”

“You could take one home,” the woman said.

Reese laughed. “There’s no way I could afford any of these treasures. I can buy a soft copy of something... I should, anyway, I’ve run out of my monthlies... but those? Those are far, far beyond my reach.”

“You never know,” the woman said. “But tell me what you’d like to look at and we’ll see if we can’t set you up with something.”

“A romance novel,” Reese said. “Preferably something new.” Against her better judgment she added, “And with Eldritch in it.”

“Eldritch!” the woman said with a laugh.

“I know,” Reese said. “It’s silly. Especially since I’ve got one of my own and I realize they’re not the way they’re written, not at all.”

“You’ve got an Eldritch of your own to play with?” the woman asked, eyeing her as she replaced one of the treasures on the shelf.

“I don’t... er... ,” Reese stopped and sighed. “The Eldritch’s not someone I’d play with, but yes, I’ve got one. They’re as much trouble as they are in the books, but about six times more obstinate. In the books if you push them with a finger, they fall over. In real life you could ram them with a wrecking ball and they’d stay put just to spite you.”

The Harat-Shar laughed. “It sounds like you’re having quite an experience with her!”

“Him,” Reese said.

“Even worse,” the woman said. “I’ll show you where the romances are. The best romances.”

“That sounds like just what I need,” Reese said and stood.

On the other side of the shelving, the leopard-spotted woman plucked a book down and handed it to her. The cover was absolutely scandalous: not just one Harat-Shar, but two Harat-Shar men and an Eldritch woman.

“Are you sure about this?” Reese said. “It looks pornographic.”

“I think you’ll be surprised,” the woman said. “You can trust this author.”

It was so glibly said Reese didn’t know what prompted her to look up at the Harat-Shar and see the utter sobriety in the woman’s coffee-colored eyes. It was such an unexpected expression that she said, “I’ll take it.”

The woman smiled.

Outside the store with the soft copy of the novel in her data tablet, Reese wondered what she’d just missed. Shaking herself, she headed back down the avenue for the port and reached it an hour later without being tempted by any of the other stores in her way. There she began collecting quotes for her repair work, keeping alert for any rumors about which shops did better quality work than others. By the time she made it to the end of the port her feet ached and her skin felt stretched taut from the heat. She found a bench to rest and watched the passersby.

While she’d been working she hadn’t taken much notice of the balance of aliens and Harat-Shar in the port; now that she looked, she found far more aliens than natives. A lot of humans, not all of them someone she would have trusted to shake her hand. She began to wonder how safe the port was. Sascha had said something about Zhedeem being one of the few cities with a healthy mix of off-worlders and natives... maybe that wasn’t the advantage she’d been hoping for.

Reese rubbed her forehead. She was being ridiculous. Surely the pirates wouldn’t bother to follow her here. She would have trouble enough with the crew and her crazy Harat-Shariin pair without borrowing more about pirate vendettas.

At least her stomach didn’t burn up anymore. It still twisted, but it no longer burned. It was a spare blessing, but Reese counted it anyway. With a long breath she heaved herself to her feet and headed back into the port to do a few more errands.

By the time Reese let herself back into the gardens around the estate the world had turned purple after an astonishingly clear, high sunset. Irine greeted her as she let herself into one of the halls.

“You missed dinner,” Irine said.

Reese flushed. “Sorry. I got caught up in what I was doing.”

Irine shrugged. “There will be other dinners, I guess. If you want to come.”

“I do,” Reese said. “I just... I’m sorry, Irine. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Are we that scary?” Irine asked, ears drooping.

“It’s not you,” Reese said, then sighed. “It’s not
just
you,” she amended. “It’s everything. It’s having so many bills and not knowing where the money’s going to come from. It’s worrying about slavers. It’s being dirtside—you know I hate the way planets smell. It’s being in an unfamiliar place. And curse it all, it’s Hirianthial.”

Irine glanced at her, catching the glow of a lantern in one mischievous eye. “So that’s it. He
did
say something to you.”

“He’s always saying something to me,” Reese muttered. “I thought Eldritch were supposed to be quiet and mysterious, not high-handed and insufferable.”

Irine grasped her by the elbow, pulling her down the hall. “You don’t think he’s quiet and mysterious? He’s not exactly chatty, you know.”

“Chatty would have been forgivable,” Reese said. “What he actually does is far more annoying.”

“Sascha and Kis’eh’t and I had a bet about whether he said something to annoy you,” Irine said with a chortle. “I knew I’d win! What did he say?”

“That I’d better start taking care of you people now that we’d landed here and Harat-Sharii’s laws had put you in my care,” Reese said. “Have you ever heard anything more ridiculous?”

“Of course I have,” Irine said. “But you’re talking about our laws, so what else would I think? Here’s your room.”

Reese paused in the threshold, had a sense of walls, windows, and gauze curtains. Something outside was chirping... no, several somethings. Insects? Amphibians? Who knew? The fan and the night’s breeze intersected somewhere around the window, and someone had hung a hammock for her there.

“Are those seriously supposed to stay open?” Reese asked.