The Ninth Orb (22 page)

Liz swallowed audibly. “They pinch their heads off.”

Eden stared at her friend in disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“One of them asked me why we didn’t have pinchers--why we had hands instead. That’s how I found out. I told you the men have no value to them. If they don’t reproduce, the queen is considered well within her rights to dispose of them, or have them disposed of. Sometimes they merely use their weight to crush them to death and pretend it’s an accident. I didn’t say anything because I don’t know how to handle it and I was afraid--Well, you know how Ivy is. She’s liable to take it as good thing and use it to wipe her pazaan out. I wouldn’t put it past her to encourage everyone to do so and we could end up causing the war we’re trying to avoid.”

Eden’s mind was chaotic, but one thing became crystal clear to her almost immediately. Liz was right. “Does anyone else know?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. It’s in my notes, but ….”

“Delete it from your notes and omit it from your report. I’ll give it some thought and try to decide the best way to handle this. We’ll discuss this again when I come back.”

A sea of male faces greeted Eden at the exit to the safety corridor. She was distracted enough by the ‘food for thought’ Liz had given her that she managed to greet them with what she thought was a nice mixture of aloofness and politeness. Bracing herself, she glanced around at the men, wondering if all of them were ‘breeders’ except the small army of warriors standing at the rear, or if only some of them were. She hadn’t given it much thought, she realized. Baen had made it crystal clear, however, that the warriors were merely warriors, and not allowed to be considered for breeding.

Lucky them.

Enlightenment about their barbaric practices would certainly explain why the Xtanians had first received them with a mixture of excitement and fear. They desperately wanted a mate for themselves and at the same time knew that if they failed to ‘please’ they were dead men.

All things considered Eden had to wonder if their women simply disposed of the men any time they were displeased.

Maybe that was why they sometimes ‘accidentally’ crushed the life out of them?

It didn’t matter, Eden told herself, smiling woodenly as one of the men, one she didn’t recognize, bowed formally and asked if she would care to examine the meznooku they had designed and built in her honor.

She graciously agreed that she would be absolutely delighted and curbed the impulse to whirl around and run back down the safety corridor.

She was distracted by movement within the group as four men came forward carrying an odd looking contraption supported by poles that rested on their shoulders.

They set the thing on the ground.

Eden stared at it, completely dumbfounded.

The stranger, who’d introduced himself as Jred, or something like that, took her hand and led her toward the thing. Another stepped forward, grasped one side and opened it. When she stopped and leaned down to peer inside curiously, she saw that the interior looked to be padded and filled with brightly colored pillows. She had no idea what the pillows had been made from, but she suspected some of their clothing had been sacrificed for the project because the color and texture looked very much like the uniforms they wore.

She saw that everyone was watching her expectantly when she straightened and looked around. Frowning, she looked at the thing again, studied the poles, and finally it dawned on her that they expected her to climb inside so that they could carry her.

At any other time, she would’ve flatly refused. It was absolutely absurd to consider being carried when she was perfectly capable of walking.

Truth be told, though, she didn’t actually feel perfectly capable of walking at the moment. She felt weak and ill and confused and frightened and the prospect of even a few minutes respite after what she’d just learned from Liz was enough to clench the matter. She climbed inside.

A wave of dizziness washed over her as the door was closed and the men lifted the thing to their shoulders again. It subsided slightly when they began to move, but only slightly. The thing swayed with their measured steps, even though she could tell they were trying very hard not to jostle her.

Lying back among the pillows, she closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind away from the motion and the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

What the hell were they going to do about this newest ‘wrinkle’ in the bizarre mating practices of the Xtanians, she wondered, feeling borderline hysteria?

What could they do?

Would the Xtanians decide that they were weak and unfit to be queens if they didn’t kill the men that displeased them?

She pushed that thought aside. How long, she wondered, before everyone knew, Xtanians and colonists alike? Unless another Xtanian decided to question the lack of pinchers, or a colonist decided to ask too many questions, months?

Maybe.

If the practice was to slay the ones who weren’t fertile enough to impregnate the queen, then that was something that would take months to know.

Unless their gestation period wasn’t the same as Earth females?

She frowned, but it seemed to her that it was more likely that it would be longer, not shorter, if anything.

Unless the Xtanians decided to get talkative and/or the colonists curious, they should have a couple of months to figure things out.

It occurred to her about the time the conveyance stopped that she was probably worrying over nothing. These males hadn’t had a female--ever, unless she was greatly mistaken and the colonists hadn’t had a male in years. How likely was it that they were going to be doing any chatting?

That realization would’ve soothed her a lot more if she’d been sitting at her desk in her office instead of surrounded by eager young men with nothing on their minds but waiting their turn.

She hoped they were going to wait their turn.

Her first sight of the meznooku completely obliterated all other thoughts from her mind.

Although built on a far smaller scale, it was a fortress much like the one the Xtanians had built across the stream. The resemblance ended, however, at the outer walls. When she had been escorted inside, she simply stopped, staring around in stunned surprise.

Whether the Xtanians had technology even close to that of the Earth culture or not, those banished to New Georgia had no access to it, but they’d proven that they were as resourceful as Trar had claimed. The interior was as comfortably cool as her own office. Natural light spilled into the enormous, almost cavernous great room from every direction, channeled in like recessed lighting, she saw, by small angled holes high in the walls that were covered with some sort of fabric to keep insects out and/or to limit air flow.

The great trees that had been felled in the forest had been cut and shaped, carved and smoothed, and then stained and rubbed with something that made the wood gleam warmly. Pillars and overhead beams had been cut from it. Tables and chairs and stools and couches had been wrought from it.

The furnishings were sparse for so large a room, but each appeared to have been very carefully thought out and produced.

An army had built this, she reminded herself, and still wondered how they’d managed to create a thing of such stunning beauty in only a matter of months.

She’d been in New Savannah for months and still hadn’t managed to unpack the small trunk full of personal possessions she’d brought with her.

She cleared her throat with an effort and glanced around at the men waiting tensely for her verdict. “It’s … beautiful.”

The men within Eden’s view exchanged relieved glances. Trar broke from the group and hurried toward her. “I will show you the sleeping chamber.”

Eden blinked at him as if she’d been smacked between the eyes as Liz’s comment about the consummation ceremony hit her. Chastising herself, she forced a smile and lifted a hand. He stared at her hand uneasily for several moments, but made no attempt to take it, which reminded her of what else Liz had told her.

She smiled more easily and reached for his hand. “Show me,” she urged him as she closed her fingers around his hand.

He curled his fingers around her hand as she had his and turned to lead her across the great room.

Wide doors along the rear wall that looked as if made for giants opened from the rear wall into a chamber that was almost half the size of the one she assumed was a gathering area.

“This I designed myself,” he told her, pride in his voice as he lifted a hand to encompass the enormous bed that was the center piece of the chamber. The floor had been raised to form a platform. Steps formed tiers down to the main floor. The bed itself was supported by an enormous frame, ornately carved posts and a massive head and footboards. Delicate vines and flowers wound their way up the columns and across the headboard and footboard. Nestled amongst the carved leaves here and there were small creatures.

She wasn’t certain if it depicted the local wildlife or that on his home world, but she examined them with interest, wondering how accurate the images were. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What is this?”

He studied her face a little doubtfully, but finally knelt beside her. “It is a jupin.”

“From Xtania?”

He frowned slightly. “They are here, as well--not just like this, but much the same.”

Realizing abruptly that she’d not only unintentionally insulted him by appearing not to recognize what the image depicted, but she was also on dangerous ground insofar as her origins, she merely nodded. “Oh. I don’t get out much,” she said a little lamely.

The one who’d called himself Jerd rescued her, taking her hand and leading her to a slightly smaller room that she discovered was a bath--she thought it was a bath. A pool that looked larger enough to accommodate a half a dozen people at once was the focal point. Formed from the local stone, it was irregular in shape, seeming almost ‘natural’ and filled by way of a waterfall set cunningly into the stone and spilling forth in seemingly endless abundance.

Either the water was circulating or draining at much the same rate as it was filling, for the water level seemed to remain constant.

It reminded her of the waterfall in the woods where she had come upon Baen. The memory promptly dampened her enthusiasm.

Smiling her approval with an effort, she glanced around at the remainder of the room. It occurred to her after a moment that the theme common through out the great room, the bedroom, and the bath was nature. Not only had they used all natural materials to build the structure itself. They’d carried it through into the colors of the manmade materials used to cover pillows and tables, the linens on the bed. And beyond that, the carvings on every surface depicted the simple beauty of flourishing life, vines, leaves, flowers and tiny creatures of the meadow and forest.

She was no artist, but even she could see that the domicile they’d built was far more than functional. It was a work of art, a place of beauty, and peace.

Vladiv led her from the bath, through the bedroom and into the great room again to point out a cabinet that he’d built.

A sense of unreality gripped her as she was led to admire one thing after another and each man pointed out his contributions to the joint effort. She’d begun to feel dizzy with the input into her brain, not just of the finer points of the docile and all its appointments, but the names and faces of the men by the time Cal rescued her and led her to a lounge in the center of the great room to rest.

He settled on a pillow on the floor beside the lounge. “We have prepared a feast in your honor. We hope that it will be a celebration feast for us, as well, and that you will grant us your favor by accepting us as your pazaan.”

Eden tried to look delighted at the prospect, but she realized even before she glanced around to discover that everyone had gathered and settled that she’d reached the moment of truth--or at least the first hurtle. Her stomach knotted instantly.

“You do realize that our customs differ a great deal from your own?”

Cal said nothing, merely studying her with a faintly doubtful expression. She saw a similar expression on the faces of most of the men gathered around her.

“We do.”

The voice drew her gaze.

It also drew the surprised gazes of everyone else--as if a tree had suddenly spoken.

Baen was standing near the far wall with the other warriors. For a handful of fluttering heartbeats, Eden met his gaze and then, with an effort, she looked away again. She’d been studiously avoiding the possibility of looking for him among the men since she had first left New Savannah. Hearing his voice alone was enough to send her heart rate soaring. Seeing him after so long, feeling the touch of his gaze, threw her into complete disorder.

With an effort, she gathered her thoughts. “I can only accept if you can all accept that I hold an office of importance to the … uh …city and the people who live there. If I agree to live here, then each morning I must return to the city and perform the tasks that need to be done. Each day I will return near sunset.”

An uncomfortable silence was the only response to her demand. Eden had begun to wonder if there was any room at all for negotiation with the Xtanians when Cal spoke.

“We are here to provide for you in any way, to fulfill your wishes, your desires, your needs. You will not need to labor.”

Eden studied his face for a long moment, trying to think of the best way to make them understand. After some thought, it occurred to her that they might not be able to fully accept anything she told them, but she could at least try to make them understand by using terms they were familiar with. “This is the way of my people. It’s a matter of honor and duty,” she said flatly. “It isn’t open to negotiation, and it isn’t something I can or will abandon. Beyond that, it’s important to me. If you can’t understand and accept that there is far more to me than … being a vessel to carry and produce your young, then I can not accept your generous offer.”

It was unnerving, to say the least, to hand out an ultimatum when she in the midst of her ‘enemies’. Inside, she was quaking like a leaf, but she thought she managed to preserve an outward appearance of calm resolve well enough. She’d already begun to reach for the button on her wrist band that would signal an immediate evac via the transporter when Cal stopped her. A jolt went through her that was primarily fear when he caught her hand.