Plague of Memory (33 page)

"I cannot leave, Cherijo." Xonea's voice lost all warmth as he spoke to Qonja. "Your pardon, I did not intend to intrude upon your privacy."

I looked over my shoulder. Qonja was helping Hawk to his feet, and although the winged Terran looked pale, the Jorenian did not seem upset.

"No matter." Qonja put his arm around his companion. "We no longer wish to hide our affection for each other."

The captain made a quick gesture. "Warriors often form close bonds with one another in times of duress, when they are far from their Chosen. There is no shame in it."

"No, Xonea, this is not what you wish it to be." Qonja took Hawk's hand in his. "We are not on the field of battle, and there are no women waiting for us on Joren."

"Terran," Xonea said to Hawk, ignoring Qonja now. "Our ways are not the same. You have no obligation to the future, but Qonja does. He cannot indulge in this .. . pleasure with you. He must bond. He must produce children for his House. That is his path."

"I understand," Hawk said quietly. "I know the Jorenian customs. I have tried to respect them."

"I have not shown the proper respect," Qonja said, looking angry now. "Perhaps it is time that I do." He turned to Hawk. "You know how I feel for you. There is no other I honor more. You honor me as well. We walk the path together."

"Qonja," Xonea said, stepping forward and reaching out as if he meant to grab him. "Do not say more. You have already violated HouseClan law."

"I must show respect for the one who holds my heart," the Jorenian said simply. "That is why I Choose you, Hawk." He kissed the Terran's forehead, and then his cheek, and then his mouth. "There are no ritual words for what we are, and what we feel. I offer you my honor and my kinship for as long as we walk the path together."

Xonea closed his eyes for a moment. "I must summon your ClanLeader and inform him of this. It is my obligation to the Adan."

"Please don't." Hawk suddenly panicked. "Qonja spoke in haste. He is not thinking of the consequences."

"Too late," Qonja said softly as Xonea nodded and left the envirodome.

Hawk looked at me. "What will we do now?"

I did not know how to answer.

Even isolated as we were in Medical, the scandal of Qonja Choosing Hawk swept through the ship and served as the source of a hundred whispered conversations an hour. The nurses spoke of it only when they thought we could not hear, but the consensus was obvious and smothering—what the two men had done was wrong, and had to be met with dire consequences.

"I do not understand Jorenians," I said as I passed a slide with a negative reaction to the latest test enzyme to ChoVa. "What does it matter if two men care for each other so much? Can they not spare one breeder to live life as he wishes, with the one he loves?"

"I
do not know. There are some like them among us, but it is not a condoned practice among Hsktskt, and so they keep to themselves. Mating for us, like the Jorenians, is to proliferate and strengthen the bloodline." She shrugged. "Some are said to form mating bonds simply to conceal the other relationship."

The amount of gossip was what most disgusted Squilyp, whose people were extremely circumspect about their personal relationships. He did admit that there were same-gender couples on Omorr, but they were treated the same as mixed-gender couples.

"One cares for whom one cares for," he muttered to me after reprimanding two nurses for passing gossip on to one of the patients. "Whether they c reproduce or not. In every society there are alwa orphans in need of good homes, are there not? It is no one's business what genders are listed on the mating contract."

It seemed faintly ridiculous to me for the Joren ians to be so obsessed about Qonja's Choice when we were fighting a losing battle against the genocide of the Hsktskt species, but a meeting of the d.

partment heads was called to bear witness as Clan-Leader Adan levied punishment on Qonja for making his forbidden Choice.

Squilyp refused to attend and sent me in his place. "If I go, I will say something thoughtless, and possibly start a war between Joren and Omorr. You know how to be silent." He glanced at me. "You do still know how, do you not?"

"Even when I do not wish to," I agreed.

I went, and sat beside Alunthri. The talking feline nodded to me, but only watched in silence as Qonja and Hawk were brought before the Adan.

Xonea was called upon to recount what had happened. He did so, leaving out all but the most relevant details, and then ClanLeader Tlore asked Qonja and Hawk to verify the captain's version of the incident.

He was giving them one last chance, I realized, to back out of their relationship.

Qonja never hesitated a moment. "It is as the captain has said. I was with Hawk, as I have been for some time now. We honor each other deeply. I Chose him before Xonea and Healer Torin. He will be mine by bond."

Tlore Adan turned to me as if seeking one hint of denial. "Healer, it is good that you are here. Is that which the captain and Qonja Adan have said the same as what you saw and heard?"

I thought of all the things I could say. I was, after all, one of the rulers of these people. Perhaps I could change the law to make things equal for Qonja and Hawk. But I recalled what the Omorr had said, and how little I still knew of Joren and its people.

"Tell them the truth," Alunthri said softly. "It is all that ever matters." I met its clear gaze before I turned to the Clan-Leader and nodded.

The Adan sat back and covered his face with his hands for a moment. It was an awful gesture, like that of an Iisleg male shamed into weeping. The other members of his HouseClan looked just as miserable. At last the ClanLeader stood and addressed the two men.

"Few Jorenian customs cannot be circumvented by some means, but our survival as a species depends on the matter of Choice and Bond. You are much beloved by us, Qonja, but I cannot make an exception for you. In our society, men Choose women, and that is the law. Anyone who violates the law cannot go unpunished."

"I understand, ClanLeader," Qonja said, and bowed. "I am willing to face the consequences."

"Very well." He stood very straight and looked directly at Qonja. "ClanSon of HouseClan Adan, you are repudiated. No more are you a member of our House. No more do you enjoy a place among us. No more will you be counted as kin. All Adan shall be made aware of this."

I could not stand to watch another moment of the ritual, so I slipped out of the briefing room and walked for a time. The sadness I felt for the two men outweighed my anger at the Adan. Custom or law, people had their ways, and one could not defy them without knowing the price of punishment. Still, it seemed a terrible thing, as if the Adan had killed Qonja rather than simply disowning him.

I ended up standing outside our quarters, staring at the door but unwilling to go inside. Qonja had sacrificed everything for Hawk. I knew how that felt, for I had done the same for Marel.

What had I done for Reever? "You witnessed the repudiation," my husband said from behind me.

I turned and pressed a hand over my pounding heart. "Yes. The Senior Healer felt the process was too embarrassing, and so he sent me in his place. I sat with Alunthri. You scared the living hell out of me. Cough or something ... next. . . time ... " I swayed on my feet and then clenched my fists. "I am sorry. Sometimes .. . sometimes the memories make her words come out of my mouth."

Reever came and put his arms around me, and gently led me inside. "You are trembling."

"I'm so afraid. Every other time I go to speak now, it is as if she chooses my words for me." I buried my face against his chest. "I know you wish her back with you more than anything, but I don't want to die, Husband. I am greedy. Greedy for my life, and this body, and you and Marel."

He picked me up and carried me to the big chair where he often sat and read to Marel.

"Where is the little one?" I asked wearily.

"She is staying the night with Garphawayn and the twins." He stroked a hand over my hair. "There is no reason to be frightened. The speech patterns are likely due to the transfer of memories. Nothing will take you away from us."

I covered my eyes with one hand. "But you want
me to be her. It is all you have ever wanted from me.

"In the beginning, when I didn't understand, perhaps I did. But now ... " He tugged my hand down so that I could see his eyes. "You do not have to be Cherijo. You have only to be yourself, Tarn. Marel and I have come to love you for who you are."

"Ask him about Kao,"
Maggie said sweetly.
"Ask him about the oath he took for him."

I pulled back. "You took an oath for Kao?" He blinked, and then nodded. "Maggie is still with you, I gather."

"I hardly understood anything she said until she gave me back some of Cherijo's memories," I admitted. "If it is painful to you, you need not tell me."

"I never told you," he murmured. "Cherijo never knew how ... damaged ... I was when we met. In spite of that, she healed me. Almost exactly as you did when you found me on Akkabarr."

Disbelief made me shake my head. "I have read Cherijo's journals. She never saw anything wrong with you other than your lack of emotion and the ways in which you were not very human." I remembered how I had first met him, battle-blind and wounded on a rebel battlefield. "I had thought you only a very fortunate soldier."

Reever looked into my eyes. "I will link with you, and I will show you what you don't know, but you must be sure that this is what you want. They are not happy memories, Jam."

"I was damaged, and I did not have a happy life," I told him. "Until I found you and our child." He nodded and joined his hands to mine.
Relax,

he thought as the link seized me.
See through my eyes.

One moment I was Jam, in a female body, filled with knowledge and skills of my own, and the next I was tall and lean and dangerous, an alert male, seeing everyone and everything as threats or tools.

I had not achieved the balance I had sought, but I could not go on pretending that I would. I would never save as many lives as I had taken in the arena. What I had done would have to be enough.

It was time.

Obtaining what I needed presented a minor problem. I owned several pulse weapons, but using them would trigger the colony surface-security grid. Subsequent medical attention might foil my attempt, so it would not be advisable to use any weapon that might summon assistance. I disliked the thought of using a blade
—7
had seen many do the same in the slave cages before arena games, and it took too long. I preferred something more efficient. The most logical solution was chemical, but as I had no knowledge of drugs or access to medical stores, it would be difficult to obtain them. The Bartermen might possess what I needed to accomplish the task, but I was not inclined to trade with them for what I could steal myself. What I needed to know was the precise compound and amount that would bring a swift resolution. I would have to access the medical database and make a discreet inquiry, then visit the FreeClinic to retrieve the drugs.

I jerked back, breaking free of the link to stare at my husband. "Suicide. You were planning to kill yourself while you were on K-2?"

"Yes. I was very tired, and I felt defeated. I had no place, and no one with whom I could share it. I feared what I might become if I continued on as I had been, betraying the only people who had valued me to save humanoids who would never understand me." He took my hand and held it over his heart. "And then you came and ruined everything."

Satisfied that I had found the proper solution to my problem, I finished my coffee, and was preparing to leave when I became aware of something strange.

Someone was near. Someone like me.

My years in the arena had helped me develop a kind of proximity sense, a defense against unexpected assaults or attacks while I was asleep. This was like that sensation ... but at the same time, it was not. I concentrated, opening my mind in order to locate the source.

"Here we are," a familiar female voice said. "Lisette Dubois's foster family owned a restaurant in Paris."

I saw Administrator Ana Hansen escorting an unfamiliar Terran female through the cafe. The strange woman was quite short, barely five feet in height, and very thin. She wore her dark hair in a woven cable, clipped against the back of her head. Her hair appeared clean, if somewhat in need of better grooming, and there was an overcast to it—a faint, silver sheen I had only seen among elderly Terrans. Yet, from the texture of her skin, I assumed she was quite young. Her features betrayed some elusive ethnic ancestry I could not identify.

The little Terran female noticed a group near my table, and as she watched them the corners of her mouth went up—she smiled, I corrected myself—before she encountered my own gaze.

I did not find her particularly attractive in any physical sense—she had as much allure as a malnourished child—and Administrator Hansen's presence indicated she was a new transfer to the colony. I always avoided humans like her, but I felt a compulsion to continue watching her. I wanted to speak to her and learn her name. Yet I had no justification for the interest.

Her expression changed as she returned the visual assessment. Of all her physical characteristics, her dark blue eyes were the most remarkable. Her gaze was direct and intent, almost fearless. She appeared perfectly at ease, in command of the situation. However, she did not feel as confident behind that carefully schooled countenance.

She is afraid.

She may have been unconsciously projecting her emotions. The only way I could be sure would be to go to her and place my hands on her. I only touched another being to establish a telepathic link to that individual's speech center, and I already thoroughly comprehended all Terran native languages. I doubted I could actively probe her mind. I had not been successful with the Hsktskt, but I had never had much opportunity—or desire—to link in such an intimate manner with other humanoids. Perhaps if I could strengthen the involuntary connection between us, it would help me understand what she was, and why she was afraid.