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Authors: Robin L. Rotham

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Brothan sighed. “That’s probably just as well since I’m due on Capsay in the next few days. We’re in the process of acquiring a distillery there.”

Shamefully relieved by the change of subject, Hastion said, “Congratulations.”

“That may be a bit premature. It’s old and in desperate need of upgrading. Save your congratulations for when the enterprise is turning a profit.”

“I’m certain you will do well with it.”

“Will you stay for the meal?”

“Of course, sir. Is Embris on the planet?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but he
is
an Ayeran.” His father looked both proud and resigned. “For all I know, he’s in the room with us now, disguised as that berry bush in the corner.”

Hastion’s elder brother Embris had joined Garathan’s elite covert operations group several years before the biowar attack, and he could count on one hand the number of times they’d been in the same room since. The last was Lonia’s dedication ceremony, which Hastion hardly remembered, consumed as he’d been by grief and fatigue.

“That would be fortuitous,” he said, “since there is a matter of some urgency I must discuss with you.”

Brothan frowned. “Be seated, then, and let us have done with it now.”

Hastion took the chair across the desk, uncertain how to approach the matter. “Father, I bear news that, while happy, will come as a shock.”

“Happy
and
shocking? You have me curious now.”

“My sister, Aylee…” he started. When his father’s expression tightened, Hastion plunged ahead. “Father, when my mother perished in the distillery vessel, Aylee wasn’t there.”

Brothan glared at him. “Of course she was there. I saw her with my own eyes.”

“There must have been a doll or something else concealed in the blanket to make you believe she was in my mother’s arms. Aylee was delivered to a Narthani female who could not bear young of her own and taken to Earth to be raised as a Terran.”

“That’s not possible!” He brought his fist down hard on the desk, his face red with fury. “Who is filling your head with such outlandish tales?”

“We pieced it together with information from the Narthani monarch…” Hastion paused to steady his own heartbeat before saying, “And from Aylee herself. She lives, Father. My twin lives.”

“I don’t believe it. Nor, my son, should you. This is some trickery.”

“No, it’s not,” Hastion said firmly. “We look too much alike and our genetic profiles share too many common alleles for us to be anything but siblings. I was named second in her bond, before we were aware of our relationship, and—”

He looked horrified. “Tell me you did not mate with her!”

“No, thank the Powers,” Hastion said fervently. “Every time I approached her with amorous intentions, her pheromones made me violently ill.”

His father visibly wilted with relief. “I am grateful to hear it. Although,” he added with a dark look, “I will not believe this female is Aylee until I see her with my own eyes.”

“Her name is Jasmine now, Father, and she wishes to meet you. Today, if you’re willing.”

Brothan’s eyes widened. “She’s on Garathan?”

“She’s on Ryola.”

His father rose abruptly. “I would see this Jasmine now. Summon her.”

“Shauss,”
he sent,
“my father insists on seeing Jasmine at once.”

“We have clearance to flare in. Expect us momentarily.”

“They’re on their way,” Hastion said. “Her primary mate is Shauss of Andagon. Their second is Dr. Tiber of Blaes.”

“Shauss!” His eyes widened. “This concerns me.”

Hastion shrugged. “He was a member of Ayera squad, the same as Embris.”

“Embris is not an assassin.”

“Are you sure, Father? Because I certainly have no idea what Embris’s duties might include.”

Brothan sagged. “Nor have I. But I know for a fact that Shauss was an assassin, and one of the best.”

“He’s not the terror you imagine.”

“I believe I’ve just been insulted.” Shauss strolled in from the deck with Jasmine on his arm, Tiber directly on their heels.

Brothan paled when his eyes landed on Jasmine. His sister stared back, biting her lips.

“By all the Powers…” Brothan swallowed loudly. “She’s the image of your mother.”

“The family resemblance is quite strong,” Hastion said, “but it did not become evident until she underwent her transition a few months ago.”

Brothan looked bewildered. “Her transition? She was Sparnite?”

“The Narthani who raised her administered a pheromone blocker so that she would not stand out among Terrans.”

“Narthani!” his father spat. Clenching his fists, he turned away from them, breathing harshly. “Peserin, I allowed my own daughter to be raised by
Narthani
! It is unforgivable. I do not…deserve…to even…”

Jasmine walked up behind him and laid a trembling hand on his shoulder. “You’re my father,” she said, her tone filled with wonder.

Brothan jerked violently and took a step forward, refusing to look at her. “How can you ever forgive me? How can I live with myself knowing I didn’t even look for you? I’ve failed you in every way possible!”

Hastion moved to stand beside him, the yearning to embrace him and be embraced in return almost overpowering.

“Father,” he said in a low voice, clenching his hands tightly, “every day since we found her, I’ve been on my knees thanking the Powers that my twin was taken from us. Because Jasmine was on Earth when the biowar virus struck, I didn’t have to care for her when she purged uncontrollably from every orifice. I didn’t have to watch her precious blood seeping from her pores. I didn’t have to restrain her to prevent injury while her muscles seized. And I didn’t have to walk through that courtyard every day for weeks knowing her frozen corpse lay there in a biocask.”

A cry of animal pain tore from his father’s throat.

“Because she was taken, your daughter lived to come home to you, Father. Wishing you’d done more to find her would be wishing her dead.”

“Hastion,” his father gasped. “I am a coward. If anything happens to her, I beg you, do not tell me. Just end my life. I would rather die than face it again.”

“I hope it will not come to that, but it shall be as you wish.”

“Thank you.” After taking a couple of deep breaths, Brothan straightened and turned to face Jasmine. “Welcome home, my daughter.”

Chapter Thirteen

Shelley and the minister dined alone together at a small table on the highest deck overlooking the sea, and to her eternal embarrassment, the houseman brought her the Garathani version of a child’s booster seat. She sat there with her feet dangling, unable to think of anything to say as she picked at a small but dismal selection of Garathani dishes.

The minister apparently saw no need to make small talk, which only made her more uncomfortable. He’d been a lot chattier during their tour of his home. He was obviously proud of it, and he had good reason to be. Shelley had hardly been able to close her mouth the entire time.

As it turned out, there
were
exterior walls but they were more like energy windows that could be turned on and off with a single command to the computer. Like the flare fields aboard the
Heptoral
, the windows were incredibly versatile. They could look like anything the user wished to see—transparent or frosted glass, solid walls, or even live murals like the one she’d seen in the minister’s quarters. When she wanted to see out but didn’t want to be seen, she could make it transparent looking out but reflective or opaque from the opposite side, like a one-way mirror.

The great room was furnished with several small conversational groupings, including a horseshoe-shaped couch big enough that at least a dozen Garathani males could sprawl out on it without touching, and the walls were decorated with all kinds of drums and other unusual instruments. There was even a grand piano in one corner, which she loved, though she’d always been too busy with sports to take lessons.

The minister must have sent word ahead that he would be hosting company because their rooms were open, freshly cleaned and beautiful. They’d even prepared a nursery that left Shelley speechless. It was furnished with two large cribs and several upholstered rocking chairs in various sizes, a couple—children’s chairs, Cecine informed her—small enough for Shelley to sit in comfortably.

The nursery walls were covered with murals that evoked the world of Garathan. If you didn’t look too closely, you’d think you were actually outdoors—on a strange planet, of course. The arched ceiling of the huge room gradually went from full daylight to the dark of night, and the wildlife changed from diurnal to nocturnal. Some of the animals were very similar to those found on Earth—deer, possums, apes, amphibians, reptiles and even birds. Or maybe they were bats. Ugh.

It occurred to her that he’d put his staff to a lot of trouble for kids that weren’t even his, but she’d dismissed her suspicion before it could take root again, scolding herself for being paranoid.

Eventually the minister had excused himself to catch up on personal business, leaving them to explore on their own. Late in the afternoon, she and Tara had fed the kids a light supper and bathed them, then after the excitement of the day, both Wyatt and Kallie had conked out. Tara, feeling too tired to eat, had elected to go straight to bed.

When Shelley went down for supper, the computer directed her to the deck outside the formal dining room, which overlooked the private beach. She’d been dismayed to find Hastion still gone. It felt kind of strange having dinner alone with the minister, and the food, served Garathani-style on a large platter in the middle of the table, didn’t put her any more at ease. Using the fork she’d had to ask for, she picked at the dark, roasted mystery meat and a plant-based dish that looked like bok choy in soy sauce. Everything except the rolls pretty much sucked, but apparently she had to eat it or go hungry—nobody offered her any Terran alternatives like they had on the ship and she didn’t want to offend the minister by complaining right off the bat.

A few birds circled and swooped in the waning light. At first she thought they were seagulls, but, again, something about them reminded her of bats. “What kind of birds are those?” she asked.

“I’ll show you.” The minister tore apart a dinner roll and scattered the pieces on the deck. “Be very still and watch.”

It took a few seconds, but one of the birds finally landed and plucked up a crumb.

Shelley’s eyes widened and she yanked her legs up into her chair with a squeak, jarring the table and scaring the colorful creature away. “What the fuck was that?”

The infuriating man laughed as he slouched back in his chair. “They’re called diviporod. They won’t hurt you—I wouldn’t have allowed it near you otherwise.”

“It looked like a flying lizard with a rainbow on its head.”

“Our winged creatures are collectively called porod, or what your scientists would term pterosaurs,” Cecine said. “Porod are reptilian in origin, and therefore have no feathers. Many appear furred, but the hairs are not the true hair of mammals. Most, like the diviporod you just met, have colorful crests, and a select few have very sharp teeth.”

Shelley blinked. “So they’re like dinosaurs?”

“On your planet, pterosaurs became extinct, and birds evolved from dinosaurs to fill that particular niche in the animal kingdom. Our planet never had dinosaurs as you know them, and over the millennia, pterosaurs evolved into today’s porod.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“No more than Terran raptors. Their diets are very similar. Most dine on marine life, and the rest on vegetation, insects, small vertebrates and carrion.”

“So I don’t have to worry about them swooping down and carrying off the twins?”

“If the twins leave the porod be, the porod will respond in kind. If one of them pokes a finger into a porod’s beak, however, that finger will most likely be bitten.”

Shelley rolled her eyes. “You sound like my dad. He always said if you left bees and wasps alone, they’d leave you alone—until a wasp stung him on the nose when he walked out the front door one day. Then he never said it again.”

“You have my word that if any porod tries to bite your nose when you walk out of my house, I will never say that again.”

She smiled. “So are there any dangerous animals I should know about? Bigfoot, sea monsters, that kind of thing?”

“We do have sea creatures akin to your sharks, but they prefer the warmer waters near the equator. However, there are a few venomous creatures lurking closer to home, so if you wish to swim, you should enter the water only in designated areas where a security perimeter will keep dangerous creatures out and you in. This beach is one such area,” he added.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” she said regretfully.

“You don’t need one. This is a private beach.”

“Believe me, I do.”

He shook his head. “You can’t see it but the security field covers the entire house and grounds. No one will see you.”

“Not even you?”

His smile was distinctly wicked. “No one
outside
the perimeter will see you.”

Shelley got that jumpy feeling in the pit of her stomach again. Blushing, she cast about for a new topic. “The air seems…different here.”

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