Sleeping With the Enemy (21 page)

    “What
I
know,” Sybil screamed at him, “is that they sell medications for paranoia and you ought to take advantage of it! If they had any evil intentions, they could’ve cut us down before we even knew they were there. Or do you suspect they have the same sort of sick, twisted mind that you do and they’re playing some sort of cat and mouse game with us? Does logical thought never cross your mind? Why would they wait if they had malicious intent? Why agree to a treaty with us? What possible motive could they have?”

    “What I
know
besides that is that I will give you one chance and one only to redeem yourself and prove your loyalty to your country and your species or you can rot in jail for the rest of your natural life! You can bank on it!

    “We made a treaty to prevent being annihilated by a potentially aggressive and far more advanced civilization. You have a week to pack your belongings up and be on the cargo ship carrying the first load of supplies to Venus.”

    “What cargo ship?” Sybil asked blankly.

    “The Mars vessel. It’ll be loading the food stores that were intended to go out with the next batch of settlers.”

    Sybil was too frightened to think when she left. If she hadn’t been moving on autopilot she didn’t think she could’ve made her way back to her quarters. As it happened, she found herself staring at the door without any recollection of having made the decision to head to her quarters or how she’d gotten there.

    There was never any question that she would go. She had absolute faith that Meachum would make good on his ‘promise’. She was going to Venus or she was going to prison. It didn’t matter that she knew she was innocent. Despite everything, maybe because of her military training, she’d always been careful to avoid discussing anything potentially sensitive. Anka hadn’t probed her for information. He hadn’t given her any about them, if it came to that. They’d focused on love talk and flirtation.

    She had every confidence that Meachum could and would manipulate the avalanche of data he’d collected on her, though.

    Anka would know when they sent her
why
they’d sent her. He was no fool, regardless of what they seemed to think.

    It made her sick to her stomach to realize that he would instantly figure it out and think she’d agreed to it and sicker to accept that she wouldn’t be able to even try to convince him it wasn’t true. They weren’t going to simply turn her lose now that they had her on a leash. She would be watched, constantly monitored.

    After a few days it dawned on her that her period hadn’t presented and she had another problem. Tell them? Or let them find out when and if the baby reached a point in development where it was unmistakable?

    They wouldn’t consider aborting it, she realized, even if they knew something was wrong with it. They’d be hopeful the baby would give them an even stronger hold on her, possibility even make it easier to manipulate Anka.

    As if!

    Most of the time they judged everybody by themselves, a mistake since politicians were like a different species. The rest of the time they ‘fantasized’. She sure as hell couldn’t picture that bastard Meachum getting all starry eyed about having a baby on the way by his lover!

    It occurred to her, though, that it was the baby’s best chance and the sooner she left the better. No one knew what the effects of micro-gravity might be on a fetus, even if it was off-set by fake gravity, because no one had wanted to find out. In any case, breeding was quickly becoming socially unacceptable given the problems they were already facing. Instead of congratulating expectant parents, people had begun to glare at them at the very least and often heckle or lecture them about their lack of consideration.

    If the baby had been completely human it wouldn’t have gotten a warm welcome on planet Earth. Being only half, assuming it made it to term, would make it and her a pariah.

    So she didn’t really have a choice on two counts.

    She felt a brief spurt of rebelliousness, but it died a quick death. She had nowhere to escape to. Still trying to figure out what she was going to do once she got to Venus, Sybil packed her belongings. She almost hoped Anka would ignore her. As crushing as that was bound to be, it would make her life easier. She couldn’t spy on him if he didn’t come near her.

* * * *

    The sheer terror slowly faded as Anka watched the moon glide smoothly into the orbit they’d calculated for it. The cold sweat that had broke from his pores while he watched the mass of rock and ice rocket toward the planet they had already invested so much in dried.

    A ragged cheer went up from the crew members at the consoles monitoring the orbital insertion.

    Anka allowed them a few moments to expel some of their own anxieties in a burst of celebration before he called them order. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We managed to insert it. We’ll need a careful watch to make sure it stays put. I want minute by minute. Any sign that it’s beginning to stray and I want to know it immediately.”

    Everyone sobered and focused on the readouts from their instruments. Anka watched the progress of their new moon for a while and finally moved to the other side of the room where the other half of the group was monitoring the planet. “What’s it looking like?”

    “We’re picking up an increase in spin. So far no new volcanic activity. No sign of stress quakes on the surface.”

    Anka nodded, relieved, allowing himself a modicum of hope. “Let’s keep a close watch. If the calculations were correct we should see a steady increase over the next twenty to thirty six hours in rotation and then stabilization.”

    He moved to a chair and settled in it. The weakness in the wake of the adrenaline rush left him feeling shaky, but as he watched the monitor and listened to the crew quoting readouts a sense of triumph slowly began to take hold.

    They’d done it! They’d feared the feat was beyond their capabilities, but he’d known they really had no choice but to try if they were ever to have a truly livable planet. The atmospheric plants could only do so much, particularly given the fact that there were still a good many active volcanoes on the planet that continued to spew gases that they had to expel.

    The sluggish rotation of the planet, though, was part of the root of the problem, creating far too much stress from the sun’s gravitational pull. If their calculations were right, the moon would give them the balance they needed to bring Venus’ nights and days to a space of time more conducive to plant and animal life.

    If they were wrong they would still have to build underground and figure out how to grow food. He didn’t particularly care for the fact that they would have to try to develop domestic animals for a protein source, but no one had yet been able to figure out the process of culturing it. Either they’d lost some of their data or it was simply beyond the skills of the scientists they had.

    Very likely, it was both. They were poor in almost every resource, but the one they seemed poorest in was skills. They had more politicians and more unskilled laborers than they needed-at least at the moment. They didn’t have nearly enough trained soldiers. They had a handful of engineers and mechanics that were so specialized it left enormous gaps in the things they needed, a few doctors and nurses who had
no
specialized skills, theoretical and research scientists that were more interested in collecting data than actually inventing anything… and the list went on. They couldn’t seem to fix any damned thing that broke down without spending weeks or months pouring over manuals-when they could find them-and even then, more often than not, they couldn’t find the parts or tools to do the job.

    If their situation hadn’t been so desperate, it might have been laughable that their civilization had come so far and then lost virtually everything overnight.

    He dismissed the thought. They had the building blocks to survive-assuming they actually had managed to collect a moon to jumpstart Venus’ rotation. The planet should cool down enough without the oppressive gases and with a better rotation that they could settle fairly comfortably near the poles. It would still be hotter than any of them were accustomed to, but they would be close enough to conditions they were used to to be able to acclimate themselves to it-as long as they still had the technology to cool their environment when needed. They wouldn’t have seasons like the Earth did unless Venus developed a similar wobble on its axis, but that wasn’t altogether a bad thing, as hard as it would be to grow accustomed to. They would have more time for growing food and that was the most critical problem they were facing-food shortages.

    They had several excellent causes for celebration a few weeks later. Their transplanted moon was stable, Venus had achieved a rotational velocity that made the days a more acceptable fifteen hours, and they got word that the first payment from Earth for their land lease was on the way.

    They had mixed feeling about the latter. The food couldn’t have come at a better time when the Plutonian colonists were demanding to be allowed to move to Venus, but no one was really looking forward to having humans as close neighbors. Earth was close enough.

    Privately, Anka agreed with them. Publicly, he reminded them that they’d agreed to the terms and Sumpturians always honored their word-to the letter and with graciousness.

    Unfortunately, although he would’ve liked to have allowed them to actually celebrate with more than cheers, they couldn’t afford it until the Earth people actually did arrive with supplies, and the vessel bringing both the unwelcome neighbors and the very welcome food was crawling between Earth and Venus at a snail’s pace.

Chapter Thirteen

    Sybil watched the viewing monitor as the U.S.S. Cosmos settled into orbit around Venus, remembering the first time she’d come to the planet, fearing any moment that the Sumpturians would blow them to bits before they could report back to base. She didn’t think there was any chance of that this time, but the knowledge did nothing to tame the nervous quivering butterflies in her stomach. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand and coasted it lightly over the slight mound of her belly, remembering when Anka had appeared on the ship, remembering those first frightening hours on Venus, remembering the first time Anka had kissed her, the first time they’d made love to each other.

    She’d had nearly two months to do little besides think and she still had no idea what she was going to do beyond the fact that she absolutely refused to spy on Anka for her government. She didn’t believe he was any threat whatsoever to her country or mankind in general and she wasn’t going to betray the father of her child.

    She just didn’t know how she was going to protect their child and protect the father of her child at the same time.

    She still had trouble believing there was really and truly a baby growing in her belly even though she’d begun to feel feathery movements that told her she wasn’t just getting fat. As time passed she’d ceased expecting any day that she would miscarry and she’d allowed a tentative hope to bloom that it was alright and meant to be. She supposed it was that fear of letting herself accept when it seemed so unlikely that it was possible that made it so hard believe it was real and not some sort of strange dream. Soon it wouldn’t be hard for anyone to believe, though. By her calculations she was nearly half way through her term. There wouldn’t be any doubt once her belly began expanding, but for now no one seemed to have noticed and she meant to keep it that way as long as she could.

    It would give her time to figure out what she was going to do.

    It all depended upon Anka, really. If he’d lost interest in her or decided to simply ignore her because he’d taken a new lover then Meachum couldn’t expect her to report anything to him. That was the ticklish spot-just how vicious the bastard was. He might decide to have her sent back if she wasn’t of any use to him, in which case she might still be tried for treason and god only know what would become of her baby. She thought she might appeal to the Sumpturians for political asylum if he recalled her because she was more inclined to think he would want to punish her than let her go.

    She actually thought that might be her best course anyway-asking them to allow her to stay. It might be hellish living among a people completely alien to her, but it certainly wouldn’t be any harder on her than it would for her baby to live among humans.

    Unless it looked nothing like Anka. She found it hard to hope for that, actually, although she knew that would make her life easier. If it could pass as completely human, she might prevail on the Sumpturian government to take her back to Earth. The only upside to the chaos back home was that it was harder for the government to keep up with everyone than before. Of course, they tried harder than ever before, but between all the disasters that had forced people to move and the economic situation that also had everyone moving around, she thought she had a good chance of eluding them.

    The problem with that idea as a solution was that it could cause problems for the Sumpturians and they might not be willing to risk it for her sake-either by giving her asylum or helping her escape Meachum.

    And none of that was going to be an issue if Anka fell into their trap. She’d have to figure out some way to convince him to let her go to his quarters to escape surveillance. Then she could make up whatever she wanted to tell Meachum to appease him.

    It was awful to want to be with him and know that every time she was she would be risking discovery. Eventually, he would figure it out and he would hate her. As unhappy as it made her to think of him being with another woman, she thought that wouldn’t be as bad as the alternative. She didn’t want him to hate her.

    Sighing, she left the observation deck where everyone had gathered to stare at the world where they would be living for the next several years and headed back to her quarters. She’d packed her personal belongings up already and had nothing to do but sit and wait and think some more until she was summoned to the shuttle that would take them down to the planet.

* * * *

    The Earth people were certainly going to think they were delighted to have them, Anka thought wryly as he watched the excited activity of the crew that had been selected to prepare for the ‘welcome’ festival that had been planned. Not that that was a bad thing, all things considered. If they hadn’t been so enthusiastic about the opportunity to party they might’ve had trouble expressing any warmth at all and that might have created more animosity in an alliance that was already tenuous at best.

    He dismissed it. It didn’t matter if the Earth people got the right impression for the wrong reason. What mattered was that morale was higher than it had been in a very long time and it boosted his own spirits to see the young people actually happy and excited for a change. It had almost begun to seem as if their trials had turned them into old people, that they’d lost youth along with everything else. They needed the hopes and dreams of the young to build again as much as they needed material things.

    Satisfied that the group needed no encouragement or supervision-he’d never seen them work with quite as much enthusiasm-he left the ‘conference’ center they’d built that was a replica of the one the Americans had erected for the treaty talks. Once the festival was over and the Americans returned to the temporary Embassy they’d constructed, the ‘conference’ center could be used to house the colonists arriving from Pluto until the real construction began.

    It was uncomfortable to walk outside-still. Even so close to the northern pole, the temperature was usually miserable at the peak of the day, the air quality and atmospheric pressure oppressive enough to make any sort of activity a test of endurance, but he crossed the landscape toward their base on foot anyway. Despite the discomfort, it was a pure joy to walk on solid ground, to look up into a sky instead of the deck above, to see a sun and clouds instead of artificial lights and peeling paint.

    It was time he chose a new lover, he decided, ignoring the familiar tightening in his chest at the thought as he spotted the first shuttle drop toward the ground like a great bird to circle the landing field they’d cleared and leveled. He had little enthusiasm for it, but he knew damned well that everyone had begun to wonder about his lack of interest in looking for a woman. Theirs was a small community. Gossip was about the only excitement they had to look forward to and it was inevitable that he would become a target given his position. It annoyed him. He disliked the lack of privacy as much as he disliked the almost proprietary attitude they all had toward him.

    Regardless, he thought it was probably as important that they see him in a stable relationship as any of the other things he did to promote the sense of normalcy they all needed. Like it or not, he knew they looked to him for guidance in every aspect of their lives and he couldn’t expect them to begin rebuilding their civilization if he wasn’t willing to lead by example.

    Myune seemed interested in spite of the insensitivity, poor judgment, and worse manners he’d shown when he’d made the comment about her state around the time the humans had first arrived-when he’d first met Sybil. He was going to have to make it clear to Myune, though, that he wasn’t ready to father another child. His grief for those he’d lost was still too fresh for him to want to open his heart to another and risk more pain. If she couldn’t accept that, then he would choose another. It really didn’t particularly matter to him at this point, not when he knew he couldn’t have the one woman he truly wanted.

    The thought prompted memories he’d fought hard to banish from his mind and he struggled to push Sybil from his mind as he did every time the memories assailed him. He’d closed that chapter of his life. He wouldn’t be reopening it.

    It was harder to dismiss her than it would’ve been if he hadn’t discovered just how wrong he’d been about her. Right up until he’d seen the surveillance vids, he’d told himself that it was all an act on her part, that she couldn’t be trusted any more than any of the other humans. The counterassault she’d mounted against that worm, Meachum, had laid those doubts to rest-even while it raised fresh ones. It was indisputable that she hadn’t wanted any part of his plans, but the threats Meachum had made might well change all that.

    If she showed, he would know. He hoped to hell she didn’t. He hoped she would stand her ground and not cave in to empty threats and give him more regrets, but he wasn’t counting on it. He’d had a crash course on just how little faith one could place in humans. Deception and faithlessness seemed to be a part of their nature.

    Maybe he needed for her to show, he thought wryly. If she didn’t, he would be left believing she truly had cared about him and that was eating him alive, would make it hellish taking a new lover purely for appearances-because that was all it would be.

    He knew his people had been convinced he’d only taken Sybil as his lover for political purposes and hadn’t questioned his liaison for that reason-because they thought they knew his motives. That was the root of the gossip, the growing suspicion that it hadn’t been politically motivated and the only way to nix the gossip and appease them would be to take a new lover.

    It infuriated him, but he had to live among them, had to have their respect to continue to lead them, and he had a duty to his people that he couldn’t simply discard at will. Otherwise, he would’ve called them all together and told them fuck off and mind their own gods damned business!

    The shuttle he’d been watching settled to the ground at last and he paused, struggling with the urge to change directions and head to the landing field to see what, or who, had arrived. It occurred to him that he had a good excuse. He’d threatened his troop with bodily harm if they let on just how delighted they were to get their hands on the supplies, but they were young and not especially adept at guarding their emotions.

    He dismissed the urge and the excuse when he saw the door begin to open. Turning, he strode quickly to the base entrance and went in, calling himself a coward and walking faster. His

    heart was beating so uncomfortably fast when he reached his quarters that he felt downright lightheaded-the effects of walking outside, he told himself. If she was with them, he could be sure he would be forewarned long before the festival. He would have time to brace himself. He was going to need it. * * * *

    Sybil was so jittery with nerves she couldn’t be still. Her hands shook until it was nearly impossible to apply any makeup to her face without looking clownish. She finally discarded the idea of creating a masterpiece of perfection and settled for a little color on her pale cheeks and a few dabs of mascara to define her eyes.

    She hadn’t expected the Sumpturians to throw a party in their honor the moment they arrived. She’d thought it might be a possibility shortly thereafter, and worried about it, but they’d been told about the festival as soon as they’d been shown to their living quarters. Already on edge and struggling with nerves, that announcement had only made things worse and, contrary to all expectations, she’d grown more jittery as the time approached rather than more calm.

    With the exception of the gala on the moon, she’d never agonized so much over what to wear in her life. It had instantly popped into her mind to wear the sinfully expensive dress she’d bought for the gala, and then immediately occurred to her that that wasn’t the best idea for a number of reasons. A lot of the people, including Anka, were bound to remember the dress, which would make it clear that she didn’t have an extensive wardrobe-not that she especially cared about the impression it would make on anybody else, but she knew Anka would be there and it mattered what he thought. There was also the likelihood that Anka would think she’d done it to remind him, that it was an attempt to entice him back, and she was not only hoping that wouldn’t happen, she didn’t want him to think that was why she’d worn it. Beyond that, the moment she struggled in to it, another reason not to wear it became clear. The clingy black fabric that had set off her figure so well that night set off her blossoming shape with equal emphasis.

    Her waist had completely disappeared. Right up until she’d skimmed into the dress, though, she’d been convinced her belly was barely noticeable. One look in the mirror disabused her of that notion. She looked like a snake that had swallowed an egg.

    She promptly sat down and wept, ruining her first attempt at making up her face. When she’d stripped the dress off and washed her face, she lay down with a cool cloth over her eyes, trying to reduce the swelling of her eyelids. For a wonder, she fell asleep, a side effect of her pregnancy.

    She felt a little calmer when she woke. Her stomach till churned threateningly, but not as uncomfortably as before. That lasted until she began preparations again. Something very like fear began to permeate her pores, chilling her to the bone. The panicked thought leapt into her mind that she couldn’t go through with it. She wouldn’t be able to pretend to save her life-and that was what was resting on her performance-her life, and the baby’s.