Resistance: Hathe Book One (21 page)

Taken
by surprise, Hamon was knocked to the ground. For an instant, shock
gave the Hathian the advantage. Then Hamon shook his head, ignored
a pummeling of blows and brought into play a few of the more
devious tricks needed by any Terran school boy—a childhood
education for which his attacker had no parallel. In a satisfyingly
short time, the younger man was locked back onto the bench by a
strong force field, glaring in sullen rage at his
captor.

“
So
your dishonorable tricks win again,” he sneered.

“
Dishonorable, maybe. It’s a word that became too expensive on
Earth many decades ago. Effective: now that is a word we can
afford. If you’ve finished with these petty distractions, can we
get back to the matter in hand? My current mistress. Even you must
see what a delicate matter it is to introduce a native into Terran
society, especially a Lieger. She told me once that you two might
have married if things hadn’t changed, so what better person to
consult regarding her loyalty to her … benefactor, shall we
say?”

“
Are
you sleeping with her?”

For
once the insolence was gone, Radcliff noted with satisfaction.
Never had he disliked anyone so much. “But of course. Though I must
admit that her lack of … experience … came as a surprise. What
happened, des Trurain? Your famous expertise with the ladies desert
you?”

“
The
Lady asn Castre is a close family friend—far too close for the kind
of casual dalliance you Terrans seem to revel in; and don’t tell me
she jumped easily into your bed. Not Mimi.”

“
Mimi, how apt. Though I somehow feel she has outgrown it,”
mused Hamon, fingering the scar on his cheek. He watched as the
Hathian’s eyes tracked his fingers, and his face suddenly froze
into stark whiteness. “I admit to needing to use a little
persuasion, but the girl is shaping up well now. I always feel a
strong hand does wonders for a woman—lets her know where she stands
right from the start. Don’t you agree?”

“
Oh,
you bastard.”

Radcliff stared at the slumped figure in front of him. His
first triumph over the taunting Hathian and all he could feel was
shame. He’d learnt, what? Nothing he hadn’t known already. The
luscious Marthe of yesterday was but a counterfeit of a more
precious woman, held for the briefest of interludes. A woman driven
by loyalties Hamon could only guess at but which had led him to
assault her in the most despicable way. He needed to leave this
cell. Now. As soon as he got rid of the other reason for his visit.
Curtly, he spat out the words forced on him.

“
You
are to be shifted today. My commander feels I exaggerate the threat
you pose and has ordered that you be released to civilian quarters.
Oh, don’t worry. You’re not done with me. My own men will guard
you. Not perhaps as sadistic as the Colonel’s, but far more
efficient.”

There
was no change in the man on the bench. Hamon made himself finish
the message.

“
He’s also ordered that you be allowed to meet with Marthe
periodically. You will therefore be dining with us tomorrow
night.”

Hamon
refused to stay to see des Trurain’s reaction to that. He left
quickly, ignoring the globule of spit landing on the wall as the
door slid behind him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

His
temper hadn’t improved by the following evening. It was a quarter
of an hour past the time set and there was still no sign of des
Trurain. That Marthe was in full Haut Liege mode didn’t help.
Especially as he suspected this was to be the Marthe he must live
with from now on.

“
My
dear Hamon, Jaca has never been early for any but the most
important of occasions in his whole life.”

“
Don’t ‘dear Hamon’ me, you little…” A tap at the door luckily
stopped him finishing, and was followed by the entrance of his
disturbing guest—looking, thought Hamon in disgust, as fascinating
as ever in a cast-off suit that had never become Hamon’s larger
body. It was only by remembering the image of des Trurain slumped
in defeat that he could maintain any semblance of polite
courtesy.

“
Major, my dear Marthe, so pleasant to see you both. Marthe,
positively enticing. Imprisonment becomes you, it
seems.”

It was
going to be a long evening. Hamon wished just once he could best
this man verbally. He left it to Marthe to answer.

“
Thank you, Jaca, love. And you also have been restored to
your elegant self since I last saw you.” She linked her arm with
his and drew him over to the bar. “I trust you will behave in a
more civilized fashion tonight, though. You were positively
barbaric the other day.”

“
My
deepest apologies, little madame. I, of all people, had no right to
reproach you. Bye the bye, Major, I don’t suppose you’re
bisexual?”

Marthe
had seen Jacquel in one of his outrageous moods too often to
consider attempting to curb him. There was no point. He now chose
to gaze pensively at his shocked host. “No, I didn’t think so. Such
a pity. My new quarters are an improvement, for which I thank you,
but not luxurious, no, and I do so like my comforts.”

He
didn’t get the retaliation he was no doubt hoping for from
Radcliff, but he did at least elicit a bubble of laughter from her.
It almost vanquished the grief still lurking inside her. “Jaca,
you’re the most impossible man I know. Don’t you agree, Hamon,
darling?”

“
Quite,” was all she got from their victim.

“
Oh,
dear, the poor boy is a bit put out,” she murmured dolefully to her
exquisite compatriot. “Hamon, my deepest, most sincere apologies.
It’s such an age since I was last with a friend of my own. But we
mustn’t be so cliquey, Jaca darling, or my sweet Hamon becomes
horribly offended. I think he must be an only child,” she added in
a loud stage whisper as she waved Jacquel to a seat near her
own.

“
Not
at all,” said Hamon, stiffly. “I have three half brothers and one
half sister, to my knowledge, though little contact with my
father’s second-union children, I do admit.”

“
Half brothers and sisters? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a
half person. Which half, pray tell? The head and shoulders, two
arms and one leg? Marthe, how curious these Terrans
are.”

“
I
think perhaps he means they have only one parent in common,”
explained Marthe delicately. “Family relationships appear not to be
as important on Earth as they are to our people.”

“
Oh?” Jacquel sank into thought a moment, gazing into his
glass. “How very sad, one might say. On the other hand, it occurs
to me that if family hadn’t been so important to Hathians, I
wouldn’t be stuck here.”

“
Whatever do you mean?”

She
put enough awe into her voice to make any worthwhile listener
believe she was hearing the story for the first time. Not that she
thought for a minute she was fooling Hamon—only the other Terrans
behind the vids she knew watched them always in the public rooms of
the apartment.

“
If
you hadn’t been so caught up in that ridiculous squabble with your
father,” said Jacquel, a hint of a pout appearing on his ever
mobile face, “you might have noticed that you were not the only
enfant terrible
around at the time.

“
Jaca!” And then she gave a peal of laughter. “You don’t
mean... Jessamie did hint that you were involved, but I never
thought you could be so stupid.”

“
Well, I was, but did you ever meet the girl?” He lifted his
eyes in exasperation.

“
Yes. She was a mite dull, shall we say, but very
attractive.”

“
Maybe, but looks aren’t everything, as my mother was forever
telling me. This time, she was right. How a brilliant man like an
Starne could father someone like Emeline defies all laws of genetic
probability. She actually insisted on wearing the brightest of puce
one evening when she knew I would be in yellow. The clash. It’s too
awful to remember. And damn me if I could persuade her to change.
After that, what hope was there of long-term felicity with such a
woman?” he demanded.

Hamon
scowled. It was long past time he ended this nonsense. “Are you
perhaps referring to the ex-President’s daughter, Emeline asn
Starne,” he asked, half wondering whether either Hathian remembered
his presence, while the other half of him was bleakly aware he was
watching a performance. One aimed at him.

“
I’m
sorry, how rude of us, Hamon,” said Marthe. “It was the most
delicious scandal. Emeline was made pregnant, by a man unknown, and
there was no marriage. He left her high and dry. Not at all the way
to treat the Lady Emeline asn Starne. A prude, and simple with it,
she was. It was put about that the man responsible had used
ungentlemanly
means with her.”

“
Rubbish,” put in des Trurain promptly. “The girl practically
dragged me off. How was I to know her parents had forgotten a vital
part of her education. Falling pregnant after a brief flirtation.
Downright irresponsible, if you ask me.”

“
Jaca, you knew what a numbskull she was. You should’ve
thought to check.”

“
Didn’t get a chance,” he replied plaintively. “To cap it all
off, daddy dear made sure I was left here in penitential misery,
while that hussy rocketed off with the rest to luxury.” He sighed,
slumping back in his seat. “I don’t suppose you could spare me a
small ship, Major. Just big enough to get me to a civilized
planet.” A disbelieving snort answered that one. “It was worth a
try. I did manage to make it into the control room of one of your
ships once.”

Hamon
was immediately alert. “How, may I ask?” he said in a voice that
would leave his tormentors in no doubt it was an order.

“
Nothing devious,” replied des Trurain airily. “I knocked one
of your boys on the head and borrowed his uniform and ID card. At
the time, I’d been assigned to a crew of cleaners at the port, and
that got me through the handprint check at the gate. It was all
very neatly done, I thought.”

“
What happened?”

“
I
couldn’t make head nor tail of your controls, that’s what happened.
Beaten at first base.”

A
delighted chuckle from Marthe broke the rising tension between him
and his enemy. “Jaca, you never told me that story before. What did
you do next?”

“
Got
out of there as quickly as I could, dressed the soldier again and
left the base, fast. A more pathetic end to an adventure I’ve yet
to hear.”

“
Are
you still keen to leave the planet?” Hamon made sure des Trurain
could read the underlying threat in his voice and watched carefully
the subtle signs of tension in the other man.

“
Of
course. Nothing left here for me.”

“
So
where were you planning to go? To rejoin your people?”

The
man had recovered enough to greet that with a mirthful hoot. “Devil
a bit, no. Even if I had the slightest notion where the pack of
them went, I’m the last one they’d welcome. No, I rather thought
Etelia would do nicely. Not quite as civilized as Hathe was, but
damn close, and no family scruples there.”

“
How
would you earn your keep?”

“
What, work?” demanded the shocked dandy. “Lord, no. Not a
pathetic refugee such as myself. There must be plenty of Etelians
only too happy to work out their guilt feelings on my
support.

“
In
return for services rendered, I presume.”

“
Naturally,” was the unabashed reply. “It’s what I’m known
for, after all. Isn’t that so, little Mimi,” and he leaned over and
passed a light hand over her neck.

“
So
you tell me,” said Marthe softly, smiling far too freely at her
friend
for Hamon’s liking.

“
Dinner is ready,” he snapped, and glared a warning to any who
cared to notice.

Marthe
chose to ignore it and to further rile Hamon by linking arms with
Jaca as they passed out to the balcony. “Any news?” she murmured
quietly.

“
Later,” Jacquel warned, a nod warning her of Radcliff’s angry
scrutiny.

The
dinner passed in mixed enjoyment. She and Jacquel seized the chance
to exact a shadow of the revenge due them from the Terrans,
indulging freely in a biting raillery that succeeded only in
deepening the black frown on Hamon’s face. Raw from the turmoil of
emotion the past days had dealt her, Marthe couldn’t resist
ensuring that her disturbing captor should know some of the
humiliation her people had had to endure so long. Or was it
retribution for the uneasy questions he set her? She missed her
place in the latest verbal exchange, lost suddenly in uncertainty,
then angrily scolded herself. Her loyalty was to her own people,
not this Terran. For a brief interlude, she would be purely
Hathian. With Jaca leading in his most outrageous of guises, they
were both insultingly free with their wit, irresponsible, and
seemingly entrenched in their arrogant assumption of superiority.
The Haut Liege in truth.

At the
end of the meal, Marthe leaned back.

“
What bliss. Beautiful food, two handsome men for company and
conversation of charm and wit as accompaniment. Now, if you will
excuse me a moment, a lady claims the privilege of a chance to
freshen up. Why don’t you move through to the sitting area and I’ll
fetch the drinks. Just please behave yourselves for five minutes.”
She leaned over to kiss both, gently stroking Jacquel behind his
ear and pressing on the inconspicuous patch hidden
there.