Ghost in Her Heart (5 page)

With a stiff nod of her own, the woman showed
her agreement. “My name is Jennifer—Jen.” That seemed to be all she
had to say.

The high table was served. Reluctantly, Vana
chose from the array of dishes being passed around, then stared at
her plate. The four basic food groups, in an unfamiliar but
tantalizingly scented array, stared back at her. It looked good.
Her mouth watered.

“Is there a problem?” Dagon inquired.

“I’m trying to decide if this is going to
agree with me. I’ve never had alien food before.”

A half smile curved his lips as he watched
her working up the nerve to try a bite.

Swallowing hard, she speared a quail sized
stuffed egg with what looked like a long, skinny hair pick and
nibbled a cautious bite. It was…odd. Rather reminded her of pickled
herring and egg yolk.

Still hungry, she scraped the thing off her
pick and stabbed a cube of green vegetable. Bewildered, she moved
the pick away and examined the nibbled cube as she chewed. It
tasted like honey-mustard potatoes, heavy on the mustard. Her eyes
watered. A sip of the water helped, fortifying her for the rest of
the dinner.

Fortunately, she did find some items she
liked. The meats were all very good, tender and perfectly spiced.
Most of the vegetables were exceptional, as well as the grain
dishes and breads.

The only sticky point came during dessert.
The servers cleared away the remains of the meal, then brought out
platters of enticing looking layered desserts, confections and
sweets. A plate was placed between each pair of dinners.

“It is customary for the man and woman to
feed each other,” Dagon said with a faintly challenging smile.

Vana eyed the plate, then him.

“And it’s grossly rude not to at least try
the desserts,” he added in warning. “Our chefs are temperamental.
They’ve been known to poison those who scorn their cooking.”

She raised a skeptical brow, but reluctantly
allowed him to feed her a bite of a brown, creamy dessert.

Her eyes widened in surprise. It was…mmm! As
rich as cream, complex as roast hazelnut and as addictive as
chocolate. Her eyes drooped shut, and she actually purred.

Fascinated, Dagon watched her intently.
Chills broke out on his skin as she moaned low in her throat. Her
tongue darted out to lick her lips, and suddenly the room ran short
of air.

Glazed eyes looked at him in apparent
ecstasy. “What…is this?” she whispered.

“Adoc. It’s made from a local nut.” His voice
came out a hoarse scratch. Her eyes dipped to the dessert and he
hastily offered her another bite.

“Ooo,” she moaned.

Sweat broke out all over his body. Dagon
quickly handed her the tiny stone dish and the ivory dessertspoon,
unable to take more without disgracing himself.

A quick glance showed similar scenes being
enacted all over the room. Apparently adoc was heady stuff for
Earth women.

Ser leaned close. Never taking his eyes off
of Jen, he murmured, “I’d like to paint myself with that stuff and
lock myself in a room with her.”

A vision of himself and a far different woman
flashed before Dagon’s eyes and his temperature went up a hundred
degrees. “Ser!” he growled.

Ser laughed without mirth, understanding the
frustration in Dagon’s voice.

The liquor drenched, layered wafer and fruit
tortes were nearly as dangerous, the candies only slightly less so.
Vana had finished the desserts before Dagon realized he hadn’t had
any, and that he didn’t care. Just watching her had been dessert
enough.

In fact, his sweet tooth was aching.

No matter how luscious the desserts had been,
they still weren’t enough to completely distract Vana from her
situation. While eating, she’d cataloged the room around her,
sifting through the visual impressions to get a better grasp of
what kind of place it was. The servers, she noted, were mostly
youths between the ages of eight and twelve. Some of the older ones
had grown quite tall for their age—these guys were not small
men—but the boyishness had not faded from their faces. Besides,
they looked at her a little differently than the older men, with a
mixture of curiosity and wistfulness. It unnerved her enough to ask
Dagon, “So where are all your women? Surely you have some
left.”

“Very few.” He hesitated. “Those who are
left…did not care to attend the banquet.”

Vana considered his guarded expression. “They
don’t like us being here.”

He seemed to choose his words carefully. “You
are an unwelcome reminder of what they perceive as their failings.
They can not have daughters—you will have nothing but.”

Her eyes widened. “What!”

“We will ensure that you have nothing but
daughters,” he repeated earnestly, leaning forward a little as if
trying to reassure her. “We have the science to do this.”

His gall astounded her. First he stole women,
informed them that they would chose husbands, then refused to allow
them a say in the child’s sex? “And what if I want to have a boy?
Did it ever occur to you that we might want to have sons?”

Silence descended over the table at her
forceful question.

Dagon looked as if he couldn’t believe his
ears. “But we need daughters. Many of them. More men would only
complicate our situation.”

She stood up, breathing hard. He rose, too.
Angry enough to ignore the way he dwarfed her, she said in a low,
biting tone that nonetheless carried, “I have been kidnapped.
Informed that I will choose a husband. And now you have the gall to
stand there and tell me that I can’t even chose the sex of my own
child?” her voice rose to a shout. “If I want a son, I will have a
son. But you don’t have to worry, Dagon, because it definitely
won’t be yours.” She turned on her heel and walked out, leaving him
speechless behind her.

She was still boiling when she slammed the
door of the woman’s chamber behind her, leaving her escorts
outside. Unbearable to be guarded even inside this place. Where did
they think she would go?

She kicked a pillow, sending it flying. Then
she grabbed it and used it to whack a stone column, beating out her
fear and rage. It was a large pillow, and held out longer than her
short spurt of fury. Still angry, but not destructively so, she
paced the room, looking for a way out. Other than a locked set of
double doors, there were none.

Somehow, someway, she had to get out.

The banquet lost some of its triumph for
Dagon after Vana stalked out. Her angry words made him consider
some of the difficulties he faced in integrating the women into his
culture. It could be done and would be. It was unfortunate that
women like her would make the task so much more difficult on
themselves.

He considered what he might be feeling in her
situation. Since he could do little about the darker emotions, he
settled on loss of direction as something to focus on. She would be
without a purpose, would need something to keep her active mind
busy. And he definitely wanted that one occupied. She may even have
given him the key to structuring the men and woman’s time
together.

Satisfied with his decisions, he leaned back,
considering the alien woman. Already they displayed less fear,
which was good. He would have to see which men were qualified to be
instructors. If it meant spending time around the women, he
suspected that there would be a large number of volunteers eager to
help.

His smile returned, and he resolved to put
Vana from his mind. After all, thanks to the recent hunt, there
were many more women to choose from.

Vana submitted to the physical the next
morning because she had no choice. Besides, the medic performed
some very painless and long overdue dental work. Considering how
much she’d been dreading having her teeth capped, it was a relief
to have him coat her teeth with something guaranteed not to chip or
wear. They had made her go first, possibly on the conclusion that
it would be easier to do the most difficult woman at the start.

Her genetic workup was done and they took a
tiny amount of blood.

“I’ll have your specific supplements finished
by tomorrow,” the medic informed her, his attention on an e-reader.
He held up a tiny pellet for her examination. “This is birth
control. It’s activated by your personal cycle, and goes into
effect during that time. It’s programmed to ensure that you do not
conceive male children.” He popped it into a handheld device.

“No!” she shouted as he reached toward her,
and jumped off the table. The guards stirred warily.

The medic regarded her with unruffled calm.
“It’s painless, has no side effects, and is required.” When she
didn’t move, he said, “You will be restrained if necessary.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You might lose some body
parts if you try.”

Ellyn came up beside her, sympathy in her
eyes. The examination was taking place in the common area, and
she‘d been on hand to help. “Very well. Walk with me and I will try
to change your mind.”

Vana eyed her suspiciously, but submitted to
Ellyn linking their arms as they strolled through the woman’s room
and down a few corridors. The sound of rhythmic shouts and the
clash of metal grew louder until they stood on a balcony over a
huge inner courtyard. Boys aged five to eighteen trained in blocks,
separated by age. All wore black, loose pants and nothing else.
Some of the older blocks wore sashes of varying colors. All of the
instructors wore red sashes.

Dagon was there, teaching a class of five
thru seven year olds. He walked among the boys, patiently
correcting their stances and moves. There must have been several
hundred males there, and not a woman in sight.

Expressionless, Ellyn watched the group in
silence for a moment before saying, “This is our next
generation.”

Foreboding knocked on Vana’s heart. “Were do
the women train?”

Ellyn’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Our
women are never permitted such a thing, even if they desired it.
There are far too few of us, and we are watched over carefully to
ensure that no harm comes to us. Our presence here is a true
indication of the ratio of male to female in our race.”

Horror made Vana’s mouth open. “A true…you’re
serious!”

“Deadly.” Ellyn looked at the men again.

“But…where are all their mothers? They didn’t
come from thin air.” She still couldn’t believe it.

“I myself had fifteen children in an attempt
to have a daughter,” Ellyn said, infinite sorrow in her eyes. “Some
women have birthed even more, trying every way our doctors could
think of to conceive. Nothing worked, or worked consistently.

“We are a tired, bitter sex, girl. More than
happy to turn the birthing of daughters to someone else, but
jealous that you can do what we cannot. Don’t expect sympathy from
us over your desire to have a son. You are free to chose any of
ours.” Her jaded expression seemed at odds with the woman she’d
seemed to be.

Vana frowned. “I would love my children no
matter what gender they were.”

“Say that after fifteen male babes and three
miscarriages—all daughters,” Ellyn said dryly, “and I might believe
you. At least I still look in on my children from time to time.
Some women cannot even bear the sight of them and send them into
the care of whoever will take them. A number of the boys below are
such children.”

Anger made Vana’s jaw lock. She wanted to
demand which children, but didn’t. What could she do, go down there
and adopt them all?

“Come,” Ellyn said firmly. “You have an
implant to get.”

Resentment made Vana’s steps slow, but she
didn’t try to bolt. It would have been a futile move, considering
that any one of her four armored guards was twice her size. The gun
on the hip of the left guard caught her eye.

He noticed her glance and sent her a stern
look, almost daring her to try it.

Once again Vana found herself with the medic.
“Can this be reversed?” she asked grimly as he reloaded his
tool.

“It won’t be.”

“But it can be. What if someone found a way
to make your women conceive and girls started popping up
everywhere?”

“It won’t happen. I know everything there is
to know about female fertility. If there was a way to make that
happen, I would have found it.”

“If you knew everything there was to know,
they’d all be having girl babies,” Vana said sweetly.

His eyes narrowed and he pressed the tool to
her skin, delivering a slight sting along with the pellet.

But Vana had an idea now, and she was loath
to let it go. “I’d like to see your research on the matter.”

He looked at her as if she were mad. “You
don’t read our language.”

“So? You must have translators somewhere. You
guys managed to get along in our world. Besides, I’m sure the
ladies here would like a chance to read some of your books if you
provide translators. I’m sure Dagon would approve. After all, think
how it would help us to learn about your culture.” Sarcasm laced
her voice.

The medic glanced at Ellyn. “You’ll have to
ask Tzar Dagon about it.”

“Tzar?” The word didn’t seem to translate
well.

“It is like a prince, or a king, but he is
checked by a high counsel. Their offices are hereditary, but the
Tzar is elected in a battle of arms, wit and character.”

“How is it an election, then?”

“He must be elected by his peers before he
can compete in the trials.”

“Humph. King Dagon, is it?” That was the
first she’d heard the title. Figured. He had the arrogance to be a
king. But arrogance or not, she had some things to say to him.

To her surprise, she had no trouble getting
an audience with him. She had expected to be treated like a
prisoner, so it was a surprise to see woman coming and going—with
escorts, of course—to see various parts of the Bride House, as it
was being called. She planned to take the tour herself, maybe find
a likely escape route, but first she had business to take care
of.