Eternity Row Read online

  “Acting as surrogate father to Marel these past four cycles has given me great satisfaction. It made me realize I’ve been denying my own personal needs in pursuit of my career.”

  “And you need... ?” I spread out my hands.

  “More than I have.” He rested his head against the high back of his chair and closed his eyes. “It’s time I went home, Cherijo.”

  Home. I checked on our patient one more time before heading in that direction myself. Yarek was awake, comfortable, and talking with his bondmate, who gladly agreed to my instructions not to let her spouse lift anything heavier than an eating utensil for the next three weeks.

  My quarters were on level nine, two decks below Medical, so it was a short walk. Before I reached my door panel, it opened and something small, fast, and blond came darting out.

  “Mama! Mama!”

  I found my arms full of twenty-two-and-a-half pounds of Terran kid. “How did you know it was me? It could have been Salo.”

  “CanUncaw woves me,” Marel said with the absolute confidence of a much-adored child. “Daddy knew id you.”

  My husband came to stand in the doorway. Somehow he always knew it was me, too. “Daddy’s radar is pretty neat, isn’t it?”

  Reever gave me one of his rare, spontaneous smiles-something Marel had taught him. “She has been asking me to signal you every five minutes for the last hour.”

  “Miss Impatience,” I said as I went into my husband’s embrace. Marel wiggled and laughed between us. “So what’s for dinner?”

  While Reever prepared our meal, I took a quick shower and dressed. As I came to the table, I thought of what Squilyp had told me.

  He can’t quit and go home. We need him.

  Over dinner, we talked about work, and Marel informed us what she’d done in day school. Once we’d finished, our resident Lok-Teel oozed over to clean up the scraps while we went into our living area for family time. Marel had already begun tackling the elementary Terran reading texts at school, so we listened to her read every night.

  “ ‘See Max run.’ “ Marel traced her fingertip over the display of a little Terran dog. “Mama, we ged a Max?”

  “No, sweetie. We’ve already got Jenner and Juliet,” I reminded her, nodding at the two felines presently curled up under the table at our feet. My Terran cats had wasted no time in consummating their brief romance, and as a result Juliet had a nice, fat tummy. “They don’t like Maxes.”

  She pouted a little. “I wan one.”

  “You, Madam, want everything.” I tugged her into my arms. “How about a bath instead?”

  Marel caught my neck in a stranglehold. “With buh-buhs?”

  “Absolutely with bubbles.”

  Bathtime was another task that required full-family participation. Reever’s job was to keep Marel, the bubbles, and her bath toys in the small oval tank we’d recently installed. Mine was to apply cleanser where needed, scrub, and rinse.

  Marel’s job was to make all this as difficult as possible.

  Finally, glowing pink and yawning, our daughter toddled off to her room. Both cats were already waiting on her small sleeping platform to curl up with her.

  “Sleep well, avasa,” Duncan said as he kissed Marel and tucked her in. “You are my delight.”

  “You mine wide do, Daddy.” Marel peeked over the edge of the bright blue linens at me. “Sorry I noddy doday, Mama.”

  “No, you’re not.” That made her giggle, and I smoothed some fine golden strands back from her now-green eyes. “Good night, baby.”

  We turned down the optics as we went out and I dropped on the sofa. “How did she get away from you today? Was she even at school?”

  “I picked her up as usual, then put her down for her afternoon sleep interval. When I checked on her a few minutes later, she was gone.” My husband eased down beside me, and began unwinding my braid. “I went to see if she had slipped out to visit Fasala.”

  I rubbed my cheek against his hand. “Can’t we put a bell on her or something?”

  “We used bells for the cats.” Reever’s mouth touched my cheek, then drifted over to my ear. “A small proximity transmitter would be more efficient.”

  “Get some. I’ll attach them to her play clothes.” I pulled open the front of his tunic as an image of Marel and a little Omorr playing together flashed behind my eyes. Wouldn’t that be something to see.

  Duncan stopped kissing me and drew back. “Squilyp wants a child?”

  “Hey.” I whacked his bare chest with my hand. “You promised me you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

  “I didn’t link with you. You projected to me.”

  “Yeah, right.” I glared as I felt him slipping into my mind. Sometimes being married to a telepath was a pain. Don’t say anything about this; he told me in confidence.

  Proliferation is a natural desire. Reever’s thoughts echoed inside my head as he completed the link. The Omorr need not suppress his biological needs, or be ashamed of them.

  It’s a little more complicated than that, Duncan. He’s been suppressing going into season to avoid this for a couple of years now, and that has to stop. Also, he needs an Omorr female, so he’ll have to go home and get one. Not to mention all the endless contract negotiations involved with Squilyp choosing a mate. Apparently, on his homeworld, marriage was about as much fun as working out a cease-fire between warring armies.

  You don’t want him to leave.

  Sheer laziness. I don’t want to be Senior Healer again. I worked his tunic off and ran my hands up his arms. I have other priorities now. Like finding out how you’re going to lure me from this sofa to our sleeping platform.

  His hands framed my face as he ended the link. “That will require minimum effort.”

  “Hey. Maybe I’m not that easy,” I said, slightly miffed.

  He slid his hands in my hair and pressed his mouth over mine. When we came up for air, my hands were in his hair, and I’d somehow gone from sitting beside him to straddling him.

  So I was easy. Big deal.

  He stroked his hands over my back, and cupped my hips. “Are you still averse to the thought of moving to our sleeping platform?”

  I nipped the edge of his jaw as I rocked slowly against his lap, and the very solid, very enticing anatomical changes down there. “Maybe.”

  He stood up, lifting me with him. “I will have to convince you to think otherwise.”

  “Yes.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Convince me, love.”

  He would have, too, if a signal hadn’t come in over the console.

  I sighed. “It could be Medical.”

  With gratifying reluctance, Reever put me down so I could answer it. The image that appeared on the vid wasn’t relayed from Medical Bay, however. Complex navigational equipment appeared behind a stern blue face. Like many of the crew, my ClanBrother Xonea Torin wore his long black hair in a warrior’s knot. Unlike them, he got to wear a dark gray Captain’s flightsuit.

  “You were to report to my office after your shift,” he said, sounding mildly peeved.

  “Sorry, I forgot.” And I was-I’d been making an effort to be more punctual lately. “Can we reschedule for tomorrow morning?”

  “That would be when you are to report to the departmental staff meeting.” His white eyes shifted and focused on a spot behind me. “Perhaps Duncan can persuade you to program a reminder alarm.”

  “I will see to it. Good night, Captain.” Reever reached over and shut off the console.

  “That was kind of rude,” I said as he picked me up again.

  “If Xonea wishes courtesy, he can signal our quarters at a more reasonable hour.” He dropped me on our sleeping platform before securing the door panel and joining me. “It seems you require a great deal of persuasion in several areas.”

  I forgot about the Captain and arched under his hands. “Then you’ll just have to put in a little overtime.”

  I made up for missing the appointment with Xonea by making it to the staff
meeting on time. Barely.

  I smothered a yawn as I sipped my herbal tea and took my place at the oval conference table. Department heads from every section on the ship gathered here to discuss everything from reassignment of personnel to proposed sojourns. As Senior Healer, Squilyp should have been here, not me, but Xonea had specifically requested I attend.

  Individual departmental requests were presented first, and my attention drifted. I thought about the Omorr’s decision to leave the ship, and how everyone would assume I’d take over Medical. Only problem was that my life and my priorities had changed since the first time I’d joined this crew. Becoming Senior Healer meant more time away from Marel, and we’d already been separated since her birth. I didn’t want to miss any more of her life than I had to. And then there was Duncan.

  “Cherijo.”

  I dragged my thoughts back to the meeting I was supposed to be paying attention to, and noticed everyone seated around the table was staring at me. “Sorry, what?”

  Xonea gestured toward the star chart he’d holoprojected in the center of the room. “This is our intended route to reach the Liacos Quadrant. What say you our first sojourn be for Taerca?”

  There were two other stops planned on our journey, but I had some reasons to want to delay those. “Sounds good to me.”

  “I know little about my father’s homeworld.” My half-human friend Hawk, who had given up life in the alien underground to help me and Reever escape Terra, sounded uneasy. Then again, it was hard to sit in a chair when you had fifteen-foot wings to contend with. “Perhaps we should make the journey another time.”

  That meant jaunting to Dhreen’s homeworld, Oenrall, or trying to find Maggie’s homeworld, Jxinok. Dhreen’s people were suffering from some mysterious disease he still hadn’t defined for anyone, and Maggie-the only mother I’d ever known-was a manipulative alien who had implanted subliminal messages in my brain and possibly meddled in my creation. “I vote for Taerca.”

  “It is the logical choice.” Salo, Fasala’s ClanFather and second in command, punched up another, more convoluted route on the chart. “Should we jaunt to Oenrall first, we would have to double back, adding ten rotations to our journey.” He glanced at the empty chair where Dhreen should have been sitting. “I would not advise we linger in this region. League traders have established trade routes in this quadrant.”

  The same League who would pay major credits to anyone who captured me.

  “Let them attack,” Xonea said, sitting back and studying the chart. “We are well equipped to deal with whoever challenges us.”

  Maybe my vocollar wasn’t translating right. “Excuse me, but I thought our policy was not to deal with these people.”

  “The Ruling Council has ruled in favor of retaliation.”

  This was news. I knew my ClanBrother preferred to stand and fight, but now he had his homeworld’s blessing? “What kind of retaliation are we talking about, Captain?”

  Xonea nodded to Salo, and a schematic of the Sunlace replaced the Liacos star chart. “The retrofit we underwent on Joren included the installation of aft and stern sonic cannons. Secondary buffers now reinforce each level, and Engineering has relocated the stardrive, helm, and weapons control, which have also been fitted with autonomous power and fuel cells. All engagement-response systems now have alternate backups duplicated in a different area of the ship.”

  Cannons. Secondary buffers. Engagement-response systems. Nice way to refer to tech created solely to destroy life. I didn’t like it, but the Jorenians had the right to defend themselves. Especially since I was the magnet drawing all those bounty-hungry mercenaries toward the ship.

  “So the new policy is what? We defend ourselves, disable the other guys, and leave?”

  “We will not turn our backs to our enemies,” Salo said in that quiet, ominous warrior way. “Not before the House, in the flesh or in space.”

  The Captain nodded. “Thus decrees the Ruling Council of Joren.”

  Something twisted in my stomach. I knew a lot about Jorenian customs, and this new policy went way beyond what had been permitted before. “They said you could declare ClanKill on attacking ships?”

  “In essence, yes. The decision remains solely a Captain’s prerogative.” Xonea smiled, and it wasn’t pleasant. “I shall decide whom we pursue.”

  “Terrific.” The one guy on the ship with the biggest chip on his shoulder as far as the League was concerned now had his government’s blessing to hunt down and destroy his enemies. With a ship that had over a hundred children on board.

  Including mine.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Engagement Response

  Reminding everyone about how vulnerable we were with children on board had defeated Xonea’s pro-military agenda before; maybe it would again. “What about our kids?”

  “I anticipated your concern.” Xonea made a slightly ironic gesture. “Combat training and battle drills for the crew and their young ones will be held on a regular basis.”

  “Warrior training for the children?” My voice climbed an octave. “Do you have a head injury I don’t know about?”

  “They will be taught to defend the House.” My ClanBrother gave me a stern look. “As will you, Healer.”

  Before I could pick my jaw up off the conference table, Salo helped the Captain railroad me. “Training schedules shall be decided at our next meeting, after the related programming has been examined.” He passed down a stack of discs to me. “Healer Cherijo will perform the inspection.”

  Healer Cherijo was about to perform some lobotomies. “I’ll get out my white gloves.”

  That left only the unfinished discussion of where to go, and everyone voted to head straight for Taerca. The meeting adjourned, but Xonea left before I could corner him. Not that I was worried. People who avoided me usually regretted it.

  Combat training. For children. For Marel. I stalked out. Over my dead body.

  Hawk caught up with me outside. “You are upset, Cherijo?”

  Steam should have been pouring out of my ears. “My daughter is only a year old, Hawk. I’d rather she not learn to rip out someone’s intestines until she’s done cutting her baby teeth.”

  “Let me carry those.” He took the discs from me. “The Captain can’t teach that to the children. Marel is not large nor strong enough to kill.”

  I scoffed. “You’ve never witnessed one of her tantrums.”

  “I have, ClanCousin.” The new resident, Qonja, caught up with us. “Such sophisticated methods of manipulation as she displayed yesterday, at this developmental stage-“

  “Wait.” I held up one hand. “Who are you talking about?”

  “I was speaking of your ClanDaughter.” He made a gesture used to display concern for a close family member. One he had no business flashing at me. “I have several theories regarding her behavioral aberrations.”

  “Do you?” My temper, never a very shy or retiring thing, had been tugging at its mental chains all morning. Links began to snap. “You know, I’d love to hear them, but there’s just this one problem.”

  His brow furrowed. “What is it?”

  “I was having a private conversation here. As in, it’s none of your business. Go away.”

  Now he looked completely baffled. “Your pardon, but I merely wish to point out-“

  All the chains snapped. “Get lost!”

  Hawk’s wings arched as he moved in between me and the psych resident. “Shall I notify Security?”

  “That is not necessary.” For a Jorenian, Qonja seemed extraordinarily obtuse. “I believe I have valuable insights to contribute to this dialogue.”

  “I don’t. Take a hike.” With that I spun on my heel and strode away with Hawk. Once I made sure our shadow hadn’t followed us, I sighed. “That guy is really obnoxious. How can he be from Joren?”

  “He seems very eager for your approval.”

  Perhaps that was all it was-a little misplaced hero worship. “Speaking of approval, why are you so jit
tery about going to see your dad?”

  “He left Terra before my birth.” His troubled expression returned. “My mother died soon after, and my grandparents despised him.”

  “Terrans are xenophobes,” I reminded him. “Why did he leave?”

  “The Planetary Residential Commission deported him. My mother forced my grandparents to vow to care for me.” He hesitated. “Cherijo, why is the Captain doing this? I thought Jorenians avoided violence.”

  “They do, unless someone attacks their kin. Then they hunt them down and kill them-no matter how long it takes. No second chances, no mercy.” I thought of the ritual ClanKill I’d seen performed in the past, and shuddered. “This ruling takes it to a whole new level.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Xonea has permission to go after an attacking ship, with possibly thousands of people on board. People who are simply doing their job. He won’t stop until he kills them all.”

  “Oh.” He fluttered his wings for a moment. “The Jorenians are truly obsessed with revenge.”

  “It’s just a little thing.” I waved a hand. “When they’re not disemboweling an enemy, they’re really very nice people.” I thought of the nosy resident. “With a few exceptions.”

  I left Hawk at his duty station, and checked my wristcom. I had another couple of hours before my shift, but I felt too restless to go home to my empty quarters.

  “Cherijo.”

  I watched as Xonea approached. Apparently, it was my morning to be annoyed by everyone. “That was some meeting.”

  He studied my expression. “I thought you might be angry with me.”

  “Aren’t you psychic?” I took a deep, cleansing breath. “Let’s do this later, when I don’t feel like knocking you through a wall panel.”

  “I will give you a brief demonstration of the combat training we intend for our younger crew members, and all will be well between us.”

  “You can do the show-and-tell for Squilyp.” I shoved the discs in his hands. “I am not going to be involved with this inspection nonsense.”