Desert World Rebirth (38 page)

Temar cleared this throat. “I might have threatened him once or twice.”

Shan’s eyebrows went up. “That would explain his offer to transfer to another station or another universe if you were unhappy.”

Temar’s blush deepened.

“And he seems to genuinely like you,” Shan added.

Temar shrugged. “I think I threatened the people from the AFP more than I threatened him, which is an odd place to start negotiating treaties, but….” Temar shrugged.

He picked up the razor again and looked at Shan before he put it down and got more of the soap out of the jar. He stroked the soap over the unshaven skin, and Shan settled down to watch the emotions slowly calm in Temar’s gaze. The man was a storm front, shifting suddenly and powerfully from one emotion to another, but the ragged edge had dulled some. Clearly he was upset, but something had taken away that sharp need Shan could never understand when it crossed Temar’s face.

Temar stroked the blade over Shan’s face, wiping the blade between every pass and pausing every now and then to run a thumb over the shaven skin. Every single time, that made Shan shiver. Eventually Temar finished, putting the razor aside before getting the warm towel out of the water. He curled it around Shan’s face, and the heat soaked the skin. Shan moaned in pleasure. Shaving himself had never been so pleasurable. Temar waited until the towel had cooled before pulling it off and then carefully wiping Shan’s face.

His movements had turned sure and steady as he opened a metal bottle and poured a small bit of gel onto one hand before rubbing his hands together. He brought both hands up and smoothed the cooling balm over Shan’s cheeks and neck. Clever fingers stroked over his skin, tracing the small lines at the corners of Shan’s mouth and trailing down to Shan’s neck. Leaning closer, Temar offered a chaste kiss. They’d shared passionate and desperate kisses, but this one was softer, needier in some way.

Shan brought his hand up and stroked Temar’s hair. “Are you okay, really?” he asked.

Temar nodded. “I had to take charge, and it worked out okay. No one yelled at me.” He frowned. “No one whose opinion I care about yelled at me, no one I tried to save died, and none of the many, many broken pieces has anything to do with me.”

Shan wondered if Temar was mentally comparing that to a certain night where he hadn’t taken charge—he’d followed someone else, and that had almost ruined his life.

“It sounds like you did great,” Shan offered.

“I kind of did. However,” Temar said, his voice growing sharp, “you are not allowed to get kidnapped, shot, or blown up ever again.”

Now probably wasn’t the time for the lecture about what humanity could or could not control. Shan just nodded. “Got it,” he agreed.

“Are you okay? Really okay? Verly said that Pentalia would probably torture you until he got you to apologize for giving the AFP supplies.”

Shan closed his eyes and felt helpless regret rush through him for a moment. “He was so angry, and I tried to talk to him about making the morally right choice, even when other people didn’t. Christ himself lived in an immoral world.”

“You gave him a sermon?” Temar sounded surprised.

With a shrug, Shan admitted, “I think I did, but at the time I thought I was just talking to him. He wasn’t an evil man, but he was hurt and angry and so very confused. But he never did hurt me. Unfortunately, I had the feeling he had every intention of killing me, and himself.” Tightening his fingers around Temar’s hand, he held on tightly. It would be a long time before he forgot Melton’s body falling to the ground, the warm splatters of blood across his skin. However, Shan didn’t have regrets. He’d done everything he could to save both Melton and Pentalia, save them physically and morally. However, God had chosen a different path for them. “I would have died if you hadn’t showed quite the talent at taking charge of the situation.”

“Am I allowed to completely hate the fact that I had to take control of the situation? Hate. Loathe. Detest.”

“But you did it well, even while you were hating it,” Shan pointed out. He suspected Temar probably did better than he might have. When he was in charge, his big plan had included charging after Ben and his whole group with no weapons, no backup, and no actual big plan. Looking back, Naite had every right to yell at him. Loudly. “You did it well, and you’re proud of your work,” Shan said, sure he was right.

Temar’s earlier blush had faded, but now he got pink again.

“So, how long am I stuck in here? Any chance of you using your newly found powers of intimidation and getting someone to let me out?”

“Consider yourself lucky to be alive and stop complaining.” Temar started cleaning up his supplies.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Shan complained. “Much. Was it really that bad?” Temar paused to give Shan an incredulous look. One look at Temar’s face told him the truth. It had been. Shan looked around at all the machines quietly beeping and the flashing buttons. He might love his God, but he wasn’t ready to meet him, and he was suddenly struck with the realization that he might have come closer than he’d thought. He brought his hands up and started to feel along his oddly numb chest and abdomen.

Temar intercepted his hand, holding it tightly. “Don’t.” Temar’s voice broke, and he went silent for a moment before giving Shan an insincere smile. “But hey, the good news is, you got me to pray.”

“You prayed?” That did surprise Shan. He had faith that God listened to every prayer, and he even had faith that God understood and loved Temar despite his lack of faith. However, he never thought Temar would find solace in prayer.

“I prayed that he wouldn’t take you away. I guess I have to believe in God now, because he gave you back to me.”

Shan tightened his hold on Temar’s hand. “God doesn’t work that way,” he said gently. “God won’t prove he exists. If he answers a prayer, he does it only because he knows what’s best for you.”

“Then I guess God thinks you’re good for me.” Temar looked away, his eyes bright.

“I hope so,” Shan agreed. “And I’m here now, so you can stop worrying.”

Temar’s face was still heavy with fear. Shan could feel the distress swirling around them, and that wasn’t not what he wanted to feel. Not now. He was alive and they were together, and in the end, that mattered more than whatever dangers they’d faced. They were okay. “So, I guess you won’t be ambushing me soon,” he said, putting on his most mournful expression.

For one second Temar simply stared, as if his brain hadn’t quite processed that comment yet. Then a rough bark of laugher burst out. Temar still might be physically on the small side, but his personality had somehow grown. He laughed loudly, not even trying to quiet himself. “Oh, I can still ambush you. We’ll just have to go slow and easy. I can’t exactly sneak up on you until you heal.”

“So, it’s going to be a slow and easy ambush with a lot of warning?” Shan asked.

“Yep,” Temar agreed.

Smiling, Shan curled his fingers around Temar’s smaller hand. “Deal,” he said.

Chapter 34

SHAN drifted in and out of consciousness with such regularity that he suspected that something in the machines made him fall asleep every time the ship’s vid system started showing the daily report of ship status. Shan wasn’t entirely sure he understood why everyone would want rows upon rows of numerical data that ranged from oxygen levels to weather on distant planets that Shan would never see. Hopefully. At this point in his life, he wasn’t willing to make any more bets. If he had his way, he and Temar would settle in for a quiet life on a farm where he could fix a lot of machinery and rediscover the joy of cursing. Maybe he could even figure out how to talk to Naite without wanting to hit him and then needing to go to confession.

“Ambassador Polli?”

Shan looked up to see two men standing just inside his room. The sudden burst of discomfort that blossomed in his gut surprised him. Pentalia had done that—stood between him and the door. Shan pushed himself up a little higher in the bed and tried to rein in his emotions. He couldn’t go around assuming that every government official wanted to blow him up.

“Yes?”

The older man smiled. “Ambassador, you are looking much better. I’m Representative Fields of the PA. I had hoped we could discuss treaty rights. After all, we can’t allow the terrorists to stop us from conducting the business of the day, can we?”

Shan raised his eyebrows. From the little bits he had gleaned from Temar, his partner had grown quite competent at handling negotiations. After his total failure with Pentalia, Shan had decided to give up on trying to use persuasion. He was better with a wrench.

The other man cleared his throat. “I’m Commander Green. Perhaps Ambassador Gazer has mentioned me.”

“No.” Shan took a little satisfaction in seeing how that annoyed them. Considering that he’d been nearly blown up by a terrorist trying to support the PA’s political position, Shan was just petty enough to want to hurt them a little bit.

Representative Fields took a step forward as though cutting off any response the commander might have. He had to be nearly as old as Lilian, but he had a softness to him. Lilian was a third his size, but Shan would wager that she could take him in a fight. “I’m sure Ambassador Gazer has focused on your health, keeping you from the bulk of the negotiations.”

“I haven’t really asked about them.”

The two men exchanged glances. “I won’t bore you with details,” the representative said, moving closer. His face was lined deeply, but there was pink tone that Shan associated with children—a freshness that adults generally lost about the time they started working outside for any length of time.

“Sandrats chew only one corner at a time,” Shan answered. He honestly didn’t care about negotiations. He cared about getting the machines out of his body and going home.

Oddly, the representative smiled. “Your planet does have a colorful way of communicating. The linguist shifts are fascinating, especially since only three generations separate Livre from PA space. So, a sandrat is one of the local predators and a corner is clearly as small piece of the whole, so I am guessing that you are suggesting that the devil is in the details.”

Shan looked at the man, not even understanding the other man’s overly friendly smile.

That smile slowly faded. “We do have business to conduct. Your planet needs water, technology, medical equipment, and medicine. The fatality rate for simple accidents and childbirth is terrifyingly high. We can help with all that. We can benefit each other.”

A bit of scripture popped into Shan’s memory. “Today or tomorrow we will go to this city or that, spend a year here, carry on, and make a little money,” he intoned. Div would have come up with a better quote—one that didn’t potentially insult his host since the rest of the quote cast aspersions on people who put business ahead of God.

Again, a flash of confusion crossed both men’s faces. “I’m afraid I don’t know that quote.”

“It’s from John.” Shan paused. “Or James… I’m better at remembering the quote than remembering where it’s from.” Since he wasn’t a priest anymore, he didn’t need to keep his books of the Bible straight.

His visitors developed matching sour expressions. The AFP might take religion too far, but Shan believed too strongly to like the thought of people who were so quick to dismiss the Bible. Naite’s attitude about God certainly annoyed Shan to no end. And considering how well Shan did talking to his brother, he figured he should probably avoid any conversation with these guys. He couldn’t figure out why Lilian and the others had sent him at all. Other than flirting with a woman who had no interest in him, surviving the cold of space, and recovering after a chunk of metal cut through his guts, he hadn’t really done much.

“We were hoping to discuss some numbers.”

“With me?” Shan asked Representative Fields.

“You are an ambassador.”

“So is Temar.”

Commander Green shifted, and Shan suspected that the negotiations had turned more contentious than Temar had told him. Shan shifted, his body twinging with pain. If these people wanted to play dirty, Shan couldn’t even get out of bed. It wasn’t a good feeling. A heavy fear settled in his guts, and for the first time in his life, Shan wished he had a gun in hand. Getting blown up had changed his outlook on violence, that was for sure.

Fields gave Shan a conspiratorial look. “We had hoped that you would be more reasonable. You must admit that Ambassador Gazer is young and perhaps untested in diplomatic waters. The world is not quite as black and white as he would assume.”

“Wait. You think I’m going to be less… what? Less rigid with my morals?”

“Morals? No.” Representative Fields recoiled from the word the way another man might from a slap to the face. Honestly, these people made no sense. “We would never ask that someone violate their moral values. Ambassador Temar simply needs some help to understand that negotiations require give and take.”

“So you think I’ll be….” Shan let his voice trail off as he invited them to explain exactly what they were talking about.

“Perhaps more flexible.” Fields got that smile on his face again. He wasn’t going to be smiling in a second because Temar stood in the open door behind them with a look on a face that reminded Shan of Div on a truly bad day. When Pelip had admitted that he had not only broken his vows to his husband but that he had gotten a woman pregnant, Div had this disbelieving shock crossed with a cold fury that made Shan want to hide in the next room. He had never expected to see that look on Temar’s face.