The Szuiltan Alliance (The Szuiltan Trilogy) (36 page)

"You can't goad me into an argument, not on a morning like this."

Martin watched her turn and walk deeper into the forest. He was aware of her entourage moving in the trees around them at a respectful distance, but he could not shake the overriding impression that they were alone out here, two lovers taking a morning stroll through the countryside. He saw her stop, turn, and wait for him to join her.

For a moment he did not move, simply watched as the drizzle became rain and began to mould the thin dress around her breasts, her nipples dark and inviting, her hips, the gentle curve of her abdomen, along the length of her thighs. He felt the familiar beginnings of lust stirring within him. They had been lovers for just under a month, and what began as duty quickly became pleasure. But the guilt...

Sharon. What could I say to you to make you understand?

He hurried to Tina, offering to return her jacket. She shook her head.

"It's only rain. I want to feel it all over me."

She threw her arms around his neck and crushed her mouth against his. He responded without hesitation but became suddenly aware of the Reagold entourage around them. There was suspicion among them. Suspicion and, in at least one case, jealousy.

I need to watch Roland. He hates me. If it should come to it, he is the one who would kill me without hesitation.

Tina pulled away laughing.

"If we were truly on our own, I'd have you right here, on the forest floor."

She pulled his hand to her breast, pressed his fingers against the wetness of her dress.

I don't think I love him
, she thought,
but he makes me feel so alive, so young. I
want
him desperately.

Her thoughts turned to the Director and the smile fell. What would he do if he found out about this affair? Would he be jealous? Did he see her as his alone? She knew she had not betrayed the corporation in any way, but the thought that he might see this as a personal betrayal frightened her. His power was absolute within the corporation. This could be both professional and personal suicide.

Yet I can't stop. I need this man so much that I'm willing to take the risk. And yet I say I'm not in love? Am I sure?

She shook her head, disturbed by the thoughts swirling in her head.

"Are you all right?" said Martin, concerned by the worried frown that had invaded her otherwise cheerful face.

"Fine," she said, her smile slowly returning. "I was just thinking about how our affair might affect my career, my life. Selfish, I know, but..." she shrugged, "I didn't get this far by putting other people first."

"I don't think you're being fair on yourself," said Martin, aware of how pathetic his concern sounded in light of his orders from the Controller. What he was doing was a job of work. That he gained some considerable pleasure from it was a bonus, but it was still work, an assigned task which he had agreed, reluctantly, to undertake. He felt suddenly sick, nauseous with guilt over what he was doing to Sharon, what he was doing to Tina.

I really am nothing more than a whore.

"What I'm trying to say," continued Tina, her voice soft, almost a whisper, "is that this is the first time I've risked my career over anything even remotely personal. My career, the Reagold Corporation, has always come first, always been my priority, yet now..." Her voice trailed off and she turned away from him, thoughtful.

She's falling in love with me,
he realised.
This is going further than it was ever intended. I'm not sure I can do this much longer.

He looked to where she stood in the rain, hair flat and glistening over her shoulders, her dress clinging to a body still trim and shapely despite her age. His eyes were pulled to the curve of her buttocks, the absence of underclothes made apparent by the rain, and he knew one fact above all others.

I want her.

As the sun climbed towards noon, it cast its light through the rain that still fell on the nearby forest and into Tina Harrison's bedroom.

Martin flicked the bedside switch to polarise the window and cut the glare to a manageable level. Tina stirred beside him, half asleep, her nakedness pressed against him, her head on his chest, tousled hair sprayed over him in curiously enticing patterns.

He bathed in the warm tiredness that came from being entirely satisfied by their recent lovemaking. He could not remember it ever being better with Sharon, although at first they had added the gentleness of genuine love to the animal act, and that thought would normally have bothered him. But not now. Now he lay still and enjoyed the feelings that still trembled through his body.

"What are you thinking about?" Tina's voice was deep, husky, a strangely animal sound that set butterflies fluttering in Martin's stomach.

"Nothing in particular."

She lifted her head and looked up at him.

"Were you thinking about your wife?"

Martin half smiled.
She's done some checking on me then. That's only to be expected.

"No, not about my wife. We've drifted apart lately. If we were still close I wouldn't be here."

"That's nice. Any sort of fidelity is nice to see these days."

Martin laughed. "A strange thing to say, given how often I've been unfaithful this last month."

"Perhaps." Tina rolled away from him onto her back and sighed. "Oh shit. I'm going to have to get up. I've got a meeting with the priests this afternoon."

Martin watched her push herself up from the bed and cross to the bathroom. It had been so easy to start this affair, far easier than he had expected. It had been obvious from the moment he was introduced that she was attracted to him and he had let matters take their natural course, careful not to rush them. It was important she suspected nothing, that she thought all this to be of her own design.

The affair is easy
, he thought.
It's the rest of it I find so hard
.

"Is the meeting going to be a long one?" he called after her. "You know the priests won't allow me to be around for these sessions of yours."

He heard the shower start, imagined her stepping under it, the water cascading over her body.

Larn. She's turned me into some kind of animal. I can't think of her without wanting her.

"Shouldn't be too long." Her voice was muffled by the shower. "Loadra's in on this one, and he never likes to be around me for longer than absolutely necessary. He's been like that ever since our first meeting way back."

Way back?
It wasn't much, but it suggested a time before their recent meetings on Earth. It was the first time she had given even a hint of such a thing.
Perhaps the Controller was right about the two of them.

"Perhaps when he's known you longer he'll feel differently?"

The shower stopped and he heard her wet footsteps on the bathroom floor.

"He's known me long enough," she said, coming back into the bedroom, throwing the towel to Martin. He climbed out of bed and began towelling her down.

"Loadra is one of those bastards who makes up his mind about you quickly, right at the start," she said, her eyes closed, a slight smile on her face from Martin's ministrations. "Probably even
before
he's met you."

"Don't I know it," said Martin, allowing the towel to linger on her inner thighs.

"Yes, I heard about your run-in with him." She hesitated, as if considering some matter of importance, her concentration interrupted only by a small movement of Martin's hands between her legs that drew an involuntary gasp from her.

She pushed his hands away and reached for her clothes, an apologetic smile on her face.

"I'm sorry Martin, I really am, but I just don't have the time. Roland and his merry little team will be here soon and I must get dressed."

Martin shrugged and tossed the towel back to her.

"Can't blame me for trying."

She laughed, "Never," and started dressing.

She seemed to hesitate again, then said, "I heard about you saving the Controller's life on Armistice."

Martin said nothing.
She's leading up to something, I can feel it. But what? What is it that she wants to tell me but finds so difficult?

"I was there too. I was the Reagold representative on Armistice at that time."

Martin stayed silent. He felt she had more to say.

Tina dressed in a hurry, finishing just as the door buzzer announced that her entourage was waiting outside.

How much can I tell him?
The question was tearing her apart inside. Her loyalty to Reagold told her to stay quiet, but her love, and she thought of it increasingly as that now, pushed her towards telling him at least enough to help him protect himself. She made the decision quickly, feeling both a release from deceit and a tightening of fear as she spoke.

"Be careful of Loadra and the priesthood Martin. Don't stay too close to the Controller. Next time you might not be able to help him, and you could get hurt yourself."

She hurried from the room before he could react, leaving him wondering just exactly what she was warning him about.

Chapter 54

The reception hall, with its anterooms, kitchen, presentation suite and bar, occupied the top floor of the main government building. The west wall was a vast window overlooking the rooftops of central Akasian, a view only slightly spoilt by the darkening and faint shimmer produced by recently added reinforcement.

Lane hated the change. It reminded him of the instability of his position.
The rebels have forced us into this. We no longer feel safe at our work, in our homes.

He turned away to face the opposite wall, solid, decorated with immense hologram images depicting moments worthy of note from Aksian history: The space battle in the Hortunsa nebula where the Aksian navy had recorded its first great victory over its Earth counterpart during the war of independence; The signing of the Declaration of Independence aboard the battle cruiser Walsall; Many other events and figures from the past. He was aware that preparations had been under way for a hologram of the signing of the treaty on Armistice and that thought transformed the wall, like the window opposite, into an object of hate.

I hate this room.

He forced himself to smile pleasantly at the people around him, ambitious and proud people who smiled and nodded in his direction as if they were personal friends, one eye always on the vid cameras littered about for the live broadcast. These were the rich, the influential, in Akasian society, gathered to greet the Szuiltan President upon his arrival. Lane doubted that any of them had ever seen a Szuiltan, even though a small party had been on Aks for some months now. He himself had only seen two, maybe three, of them, and that only infrequently, but it was enough. Just the memory turned his stomach. The arrival of the President threatened to sicken him both physically and politically.

He could not shake the suspicion, the fear, that the President coming to Aks in person signified a major turning point in the vague and, so far, unspectacular alliance between the two planets. Other than the aid of the Bosens in cases of civil unrest, Aks had received little benefit so far from this alliance and, as far as he could see, Szuilta had received nothing in return.

I feel things are about to change. I'm certain nothing will be quite the same after this evening.

He saw Suzex standing near the replete buffet table at the top end of the room, dressed in the uniform of the Aksian military. He noted the insignia of Major on the shoulders and, for a moment, a sweeping wave of anger engulfed him.

How dare he wear that! He's not even Aksian. I should order him removed.

Then the wave broke on the hard edge of his fear, broke and subsided, receding into a background sea that broiled with collected fears and anxieties. He knew that Suzex wore the uniform for practical reasons, as the best way to mingle, watch for potential danger, and be accepted by the guests here tonight as someone worthy of their company. Suzex had explained all this earlier to Lane, but he had not been ready for the reality.

I am still a patriot, despite what my detractors say. This Alliance will make us stronger, give us the strength to defeat Earth once and for all. Surely the risk of some interference in local politics is worth that?

He knew what was being said about him in the suburbs, perhaps even in central Akasian. That he had betrayed Aks. That he was turning this planet over to aliens. That he could no longer lead without outside aid. Even within the priesthood, his beloved Larnian priesthood who so much of what he had done was for, there were whispers of dissatisfaction, of mistrust in his judgement. His supporters and his spies reported these things to him. He knew they were all wrong, but it hurt just the same, particularly the priesthood.

They will see. After tonight things will change, I am sure of that. They will see just how valuable this Alliance will be to us, to the furtherment of the true Larnian faith across the galaxy, to the destruction of the heresy that is Earth. Then they will give me the praise I deserve.

"I hear you've taken Carlton's official mistress as your own?"

The voice came from directly behind Lane and he turned rapidly but without startlement, successfully concealing the moment of panic that had gripped him at the sudden intrusion. The speaker was an elderly priest, dressed in his ceremonial robes of gold and green, lined with silk. Lane was momentarily taken aback by the opulence of the garment, particularly the lining, until he remembered a tour many years back, a tour of the great cathedral in central Akasian. He had been privileged to see several areas normally excluded from public viewing, and among those had been a laboratory breeding genetically mutated silk worms. Silk, a fabric denied to all but the most wealthy in the galaxy, was always readily available to the priests of Akasian.