"If he can talk to me, can't he stop drinking too?"
"It's not that easy. His body expects it now. Stopping will make him sick."
"You can help him with that."
She nodded. "Yes. But mentally he also depends on it. He thinks he can't survive without it."
"He can."
"Vyrl doesn't believe it." Dazza exhaled. "I wish I could make him see. Few people could survive what happened as well as he has. It's even more remarkable because his being a psion amplified the experience, gods only know how much. Something had to give. I hate what the alcohol is doing to him, but it could have been a lot worse. He hasn't tried to commit suicide. And incredibly, despite everything, he came through it with his mind and personality intact."
"He thinks the rum does that for him."
"Please, Kamoj. Don't give it to him."
She twisted her hands together. "He gets so angry."
"I know. But you must refuse."
"This is easy for you to say. You don't share his bed."
The colonel blinked. "Well, no. I've my own husband."
Kamoj doubted Dazza had ever suffered the humiliation of being banned from her bridal bed. "I am the one who must live with him."
Dazza spoke carefully. "No one will force you to stay in this marriage if you desire otherwise."
"Your ISC wishes Vyrl and I didn't wed, don't they?"
It was a moment before Dazza answered. "It is true that the marriage complicates an already complicated situation."
"You will all leave here, yes?"
"Yes. Probably soon."
"What happens to me then?"
"The choice to come or stay is yours."
"Is it?" Kamoj made a conscious effort to keep her voice even. "Vyrl has set himself up as the authority in Argali. If he leaves, it will bring great shame to my province." And to her.
"Especially given the way he became governor."
"Surely a way exists to let you save face."
Kamoj made an incredulous noise. "More must be saved than 'face.' Argali is dying. Why do you think I was betrothed to Ironbridge? Lionstar humiliated Ironbridge, and if Vyrl leaves, he humiliates Argali as well. If I stay here alone, what happens to the merger? To my province? To my line? Unless I am pregnant when Vyrl leaves, I will have no heir. If I am pregnant, and alone, my uncle will feel honor-bound to stay as guardian to the child, as he did for me. If I leave with Vyrl, Maxard will stay to govern Argali. Either way, Maxard cannot marry his lady in the North Sky Islands. Both Argali and the Argali bloodline, one of the oldest in Balumil, will end."
Dazza leaned forward. "Rest assured, Vyrl would never leave you without the full resources of his title and name. And he can return for visits."
"You think politics will play attendance on visits?" Or loneliness? Bitterly Kamoj said, "Perhaps it doesn't matter. If Vyrl goes, Jax Ironbridge will probably seek his place. Vyrl could return to find his wife taken, and his child too, if we have one." She swallowed. "Given the circumstances, I suspect Ironbridge would eliminate the heir of a rival."
The colonel stared at her. "Saints almighty, Kamoj, we would never let that happen. Don't you understand your position? You are a Ruby consort. Do you have any idea what that means?"
"No."
Dazza paused at the blunt response. In a gentler voice, she said, "Your marriage gives you the highest standing a person can have among my people. ISC would never strand you, your family, or your province." She hesitated. "Assuming it is your wish to remain married to Vyrl rather than Ironbridge."
A voice came from behind them. "Colonel Pacal?"
Dazza looked past Kamoj. "Yes?"
Turning, Kamoj saw the Ascendant stagwoman in the doorway. "Prince Havyrl wants to know what happened to his wife," the guard said.
"Hai." Kamoj stood up. "I will be right there."
"Governor Argali," Dazza said. When Kamoj turned, the doctor added, "One more moment, if you don't mind."
Kamoj sat down. "Yes, ma'am?"
In a soft voice Dazza said, "Gods know, I may be letting my hope run away from me. But I do believe Vyrl wants to quit." She paused, watching Kamoj. "If he can just make it one day without the rum, it's a start. Don't bring it to him. Please."
Kamoj swallowed. "I will do my best."
Gently the doctor added, "And if he isn't ready to stop, don't blame yourself."
Kamoj nodded. Then she stood and went to Vyrl's bodyguard. The woman bowed, then accompanied Kamoj back to the tower.
Kamoj reentered the suite to find Vyrl sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched as she walked up the dais to him.
"Where is it?" he asked.
She stopped in front of him. "I didn't get it."
"Who were you talking to down there? Dazza?" When Kamoj flushed, his voice tightened. "Your laws say you're supposed to do what I tell you, don't they? So get it for me."
"You don't mean that."
"Don't tell me what I mean." He started to get off the bed. "I'll go myself."
"Vyrl, no." Kamoj pushed him back. "You were almost killed today. You shouldn't be up at all." She took his hands. "Listen. I'll rub your head. We can hold each other. Every time you want a drink, we'll make love. So many better ways exist to sooth your demons than soaking them in rum."
Despite himself, his mouth quirked in a smile. "I like your cures a lot better than the ones Dazza comes up with." In a gentler voice he said, "But I don't need this 'cure,' water sprite. It does more damage than what it is meant to fix. If Dazza told you otherwise, she's wrong."
Kamoj lifted his hand and bit at his knuckles in a gesture of affection common throughout the Northern Lands. "Please."
Instead of answering her, he said, "Men do that where I come from." He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, pressing his teeth against them. "Like this."
"Only women do it here."
He pulled her to stand between his legs, his arms around her waist. "Women this, men that. All these 'rules' exist and they're different everywhere. Do you know what I think? That under all those rules, people love the same. They find their way to each other no matter what."
She put her arms around him. "I can't bear to see you hurt yourself."
"I just need a drink. It helps. Not hurts."
"It's drowning you."
"That's flaming nonsense, Kamoj. Did Dazza pressure you to do this?"
"No one pressured me. I know what I see."
"Now you're a medical expert?"
"I don't need to be."
He brushed her hair back from her face. "If you won't get it for me, I'll go myself."
"Vyrl, please. It's destroying you."
"How the hell would you know?"
"Cursing at me won't change the truth."
"It's your truth. Not mine."
"You almost died today. Because of the rum."
It was a moment before he spoke again. When he did, he surprised her. "I never used to drink. I don't like the taste of it."
"Not even now?"
"Not even now."
"Then don't drink it."
His anger flared. "I can stop if I want."
"Then why don't you?"
"I don't want to."
"So why do you care that you never used to drink?"
"I don't care."
"Then why bring it up?"
"Damn it, Kamoj, let it go."
Her voice caught. "I wish I could make your night-demons go away. But I can't. Neither can the rum." A tear ran down her face. "I don't want you to send me away. But I can't do what you want."
He watched her, his face unreadable. "Don't sound like this."
"Like this?"
"Like your heart is breaking."
"Just one night. Stay away from it for one night."
He didn't answer, just pulled her closer until her head lay against his shoulder. She wasn't sure if he offered affection or couldn't bear to look at her. For a long time they held each other, he sitting, she standing. Gradually she began to hope it would happen, that tonight he would turn from his blue bottle.
He drew back to look at her. "Very well."
Her hope surged. "Yes?"
"I'll send one of my bodyguards for it."
"No."
"If you really wanted to be a good wife, you would help me."
"I won't help you kill yourself." She squeezed his hands. "You've already made it more than halfway through the night. You only have a few more hours."
His face was set. "If you won't help, I don't want you here."
She felt as if he had slapped her. But she forced out the words. "All right." She let go of him.
"I will have my things sent back to Argali. I can leave in the morning."
A muscle in his cheek twitched. Then he turned and stabbed his finger at a jade leaf on the nightstand. Defeat washed over Kamoj, made all the worse by the way her hope had built.
A voice came into the air. "Doctor Pacal here."
Kamoj froze, watching Vyrl. He had an odd startled look, as if he had surprised himself.
After several moments Dazza said, "Vyrl? Is that you?"
"Yes. Never mind. I'm sorry I bothered you."
"Are you all right? Do you have any pain?"
"No."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Vyrl-"
"I'm fine."
"I can come up."
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes. Good-night."
"Call me if you need anything."
"I will."
After a while Vyrl said, "Are you still there?"
"Yes," Dazza said.
"I don't . . . I mean, I'm fine. But I-" He fell silent. Kamoj wondered if Dazza was waiting with the same held breath as she, afraid to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing.
Finally he said, "You can treat withdrawal symptoms from alcohol, can't you?"
Dazza spoke quietly. "Yes. I can help."
"Can you come up here?"
In an infinitely gentle voice she said, "I'm on my way."
Vyrl touched the leaf again. Then he sat staring at the wall. Finally he turned to Kamoj. "Just for the rest of tonight."
Tears pooled in her eyes. "Yes. Tonight." In the morning they would deal with tomorrow, and when the time came, with the day after that, one day at a time.
Dragon's Breath
Rearrangement Collision: Ionization and Recapture
The buzz of a bottle-beetle blended with forest sounds, quetzals calling and wind blowing. The translucent radiance of dawn filled the room. Kamoj's mind gradually sorted out what had awoken her. Someone had said her name.
Turning her head, she saw Vyrl sitting on the bed, dressed in a work shirt and old pants, his hair mussed as if he had been out in the wind.
He leaned over and kissed her. "You're all rumpled and warm under there."
She smiled drowsily. "How long have you been up?"
"A few hours. I had trouble sleeping."
"Did Dazza's medicine help?"
He nodded, still leaning over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders. "I feel like a stardock crane ran over my head, though."
Kamoj touched his cheek. It was the only way she knew to tell him how much it meant to her to see him sober this morning. She feared if she spoke of it, she would disrupt his precarious equilibrium. So instead she said, "What have you been doing?"
"I was down in the old throne room."
"Throne room?"
"Downstairs," Vyrl said. "The hall on the other end of the palace. We haven't finished restoring it yet."
It sounded like he meant the Hall of Audiences. "What are you going to do with it?"
He started to answer, then stopped. Sitting up straight, he said, "I'm not sure. I was deciding how to resurface the floor."
"The floor?" Kamoj wondered what he was trying to tell her. She tried to hold back her yawn, but it came anyway. It had taken her hours to doze off again last night, and then her fitful dreams had kept her restless.
"Go on and sleep," Vyrl murmured. "It's barely sunrise. I have to talk to Drake anyway."
Her eyelids drooped. "Drake?"
"Drake Brockson. He's the chief anthropologist on the Ascendant. I asked him to put together a summary of his studies on this world."
"What does he say?"
Vyrl hesitated. "He thinks the original population here was breeding stock."
"You mean our animals?" She pulled the covers up around her neck, content in their warmth. "Bi-hawks have two stomachs."
"The animals weren't the primary subjects."
"What was?"
"People."
"Bi-people," she mumbled. "Some people have double stomachs, you know. They can go longer without eating."
Vyrl didn't answer right away, and she had just about fallen asleep when he finally spoke. "Yes.
That was the intent."
"Intent?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"Hmmmm . . ." Just having Vyrl nearby soothed her. Perhaps Dazza was right, that she and Vyrl had some invisible effect on each other. "Yes . . ."
He spoke in an awkward tone. "Drake thinks your ancestors were engineered to be the ideal slaves."
What? She opened her eyes. "How can he say such a thing?"
"Everything points to it."
"Points how?"
He spoke quietly. "Your people's docility, your drive to please authority, your reluctance to engage in battle or rebellion, your physical beauty and heightened sexual response, your ability to work for long hours in excruciating conditions of climate, atmosphere, poverty, and lack of food-it all fits the models."
She pushed up on her elbow. "It can't be."
"Even your names support it."
"Our names?"
He nodded. "Each line has its talent. Ironbridge produces electrical wizards, like the Ohmstons.
Argali has Sunsmiths. By building your expertise into the brain, your creators avoided having to educate you. In fact, they probably designed you to have trouble learning anything else. Smart slaves are dangerous."
It made more sense than Kamoj wanted to admit. Uneasy now, she asked, "And my name? Resonance?"
When he hesitated, she said, "I want to know."
Vyrl touched the jeweled chain around her neck. "Human nature prefers freedom. In slaves, that urge must be constrained. Drake believes the Argali line was an experiment designed to create humans less resistant to bondage. The 'resonance' is an allegory. Your creators wanted to increase the lifetime of a metastable bound state."