The Dark Places (6 page)

Chapter Six

Rikin loomed large, sullen, and
gloomy gray in our observation window, accompanied by only one pale moon maiden.
Matt’s poetic description about this world still lingered in my mind. He looked
introspective, and he was uncommunicative in these early morning standard hours
of our arrival in the Naris System and our orbit about the planet. This was the
Twenty-Ninth Standard Day of the Eight Standard Month of the New Empire
Alliance Year 0192 A.I.C.

Stardancer
and I seemed to be the only ones who remained in perfect order. I was happy
after fourteen almost endless ship days alone with Matt, slowly uncovering the
complex layers in his personality. The
Stardancer
,
whose functions Matt taught me with much repeated patience, since I was
unfamiliar with ships, performed smoothly in the efficient manner she’d been
designed and engineered for. But I managed to avoid the control panel and
navilog comp as much as possible, unless Matt requested assistance with a
simple single-button punch to activate something.

Under his tutelage, I’d achieved
mastery of operating the specialized equipment that made life bearable in space
travel. The unfamiliar complexities involved with warming beverages, cooking
foods, laundering garments, and cleaning up in a pressurized cabin no longer
intimidated me as much now. The adherence to strict conservation—using the
ship’s recycling systems that provided water, air, and power—didn’t prove as
difficult as I’d feared. My sparse life scrabbling for every resource on frigid
Dearleth had prepared me well. However, being encased in an interstellar ship
meant one couldn’t just step outside once in a while for a change of scenery or
to clear one’s mind, so accepting that part wasn’t quite as easy.

Also, it
was
difficult at first to adjust to the ship’s day cycles and the
way time evolved in one slow, dreamlike nonevent, without sunrise or sunset to
mark the passing hours. Eventually I’d learned to rely on the ship’s
chronometers, which were set to Standard Old Terran twenty-four-hour day
tracking.

With the chronometers’ help, I’d
determined Matt seemed to have no real appetite in the last five ship days.
Despite that, he appeared alert, continued monitoring his ship, and maintained
a routine. I watched him with care and missed no opportunity to coax him into
sipping or nibbling something from the small galley’s enticing food stock.

Rikin glowered under its gray cloud
cover. The
Stardancer’s
meteorology
station sensors reported heavy, continuous rainfall across the surface. Matt
frowned and grumbled that we might be in orbit for more than twenty-four hours
before the weather pattern shifted and allowed us to land somewhere in our
target area that wasn’t flooded.

I was looking forward to his
promise to reveal more about himself on Rikin, but I was in no hurry to land. Two
things were mine that I’d always dreamed about—to be comfortable and cherished—but
I had never been able to envision it actually happening. No sentimental
longings existed for the Lilith, but I did miss Harry’s gruff kindness and
Bilk, too, who kept the staff safe. Both Harry and Bilk had watched out for me
and given pithy advice on how to survive in Marnu when I’d needed it. Other
than that, I spared no thoughts for my Harnaru existence, and definitely none
for Dearleth.

I made tentative attempts at
writing again in the long ship flight hours when Matt immersed himself in his
inventory read outs, navilog comp, engineering diagnostics, and trade data. I
tried not to make great demands upon his time or person during our flight
hours, keeping firmly in mind that he had been accustomed to being alone, as
was I.

During the
Stardancer’s
twentieth orbit about Rikin, I sensed something wasn’t
quite right. Matt was
too
quiet. In
our previous long ship days together, he would seek me out suddenly in the
midst of whatever he was doing and hold me or talk for a while. Then he would
abandon me with a brief caress or kiss and return to his previous occupation.

There were bleak, mercifully brief
periods also, in the passing day cycles, when green mists would cloud his eyes
and he would withdraw inside himself with obvious pain in his expression and
movements. He rebuffed all questions or attempts at soothing him then. Those
distancing episodes had occurred more frequently in the past three ship days
and filled me with helpless despair and sleeplessness during the ship’s night
cycles.

Matt hadn’t spoken to me for the
past two standard hours, according to a nearby chronometer on the hull. And
neither had I glanced up to check on him for almost half an hour.

I stopped tugging at one long curl
near my ear and put aside the bookcube loaded with a microdisk containing a
popular author’s long, belabored novel that I’d been frowning over. I had
discovered Matt was well read and his microdisk collection in the ship’s
extensive library covered many topics. And it was also a nicely indexed and
organized collection, so my fledgling librarian skills weren’t required here.

My gaze darted across the living
area to where Matt sat in his navicon chair in front of the console. He had leaned
back with tightly closed eyes and clenched fists resting upon the metal plate
shields that protected the auxiliary ship controls within the chair’s wide
armrests.

I jumped to my feet and rushed
over. I anxiously touched his perspiring forehead. He was pale beneath his tan,
and his skin felt icy. His eyes opened in slow degrees to reveal an unfocused
stare suffused with shimmering green mists.

“Matt, please tell me—what can I do
to help you?” I asked, with fear clenching my heart.

“Talk to me, Kailiri,” he
whispered. “Tell me about Dearleth. Tell me about Harnaru and why you traveled
there. Tell me about yourself.”

What?
At least it was a response. In recent days he wouldn’t respond to my panicked
inquiries when he experienced bad spells, except to turn his head away. I
wanted to wrap him in my arms, but remembered in time that he disliked me
fussing over him whenever his unknown malady overcame him.

I lifted his tight-knotted fist
from the armrest near me on the right. The second chair was on his other side,
leaving the deck unoccupied where I stood. I settled on the carpet, leaning
against his knee while cradling his cold hand between my warm ones.

I avoided mentioning
Dearleth and how I’d left without my parents’ good wishes or permission after
one too many loud, ugly arguments with them and our large extended family after
they tried pressuring me into an arranged marriage. In truth, I’d decided it
was time to leave after dodging a big hot bowl of curried
dal—
followed by
naan
bread—all flung by my mother during one heated row. Their prospective choice
had wanted to buy a bride, and my family had their sights set on the bride price
he’d offered. And besides, he’d staked out a claim that seemed promising for
turning up some rare mineral deposits. My family calculated they’d also have claims
on the proceeds—through me.

Letting my memory cast back eight
months ago, I talked instead about the early days of my arrival on Harnaru,
with my few worldly possessions stuffed inside two flight cases and big dreams
in my foolish heart.

Then I told him how I’d lost hope
in Marnu and had gone searching for work. There hadn’t been any until I’d
shuffled past a bar called the Lilith and seen the hiring sign. I’d never
bartended before, and big, blustery Harry gave me doubts. But he’d taken a
chance and hired me on for the late-afternoon and evening shifts.

I fell silent when his hand at last
grew warm and relaxed in my hold. I glanced up to find his stare intent upon
me.

“You didn’t tell me why you left
Dearleth, Kailiri,” he reminded me as he drew me up to settle on his lap. The
strength in his arms belied the weakness he’d fought minutes before.

Evasion
tactics time again
. Instead of my usual hostility about that subject, I
gave him a cheeky grin. “You wish for me to talk of a past I have no desire to
speak of either, Matt Lorins, but I’ll tell you: I left Dearleth because no one
cared if I stayed or went. They wanted me out.”

That part
rankled
the most. My parents’
other
motive
behind bargaining me off to that isolated miner was fueled by a plan to oust me
from our underground city’s residence unit. They’d wanted an elderly aunt to
take over my tiny bedroom. Occupancy space had been restricted and closely
allotted in the mining colony’s environment-controlled communities, and old
Aunt Agnes had a much bigger pension than my part-time librarian job paid.

“My family wasn’t close-knit. No
cozy, warm fuzzies there for one another. We despised one another in point.
There was nothing on Dearleth except ice, frigid winds, dead hopes, and
ice-hearted people. I’m not certain if it’s the ice of Dearleth that gets into
people’s veins there, or if coldhearted people were naturally drawn to the
planet. And everyone there is deadlocked into the cultural traditions that they
brought with them from Old Terran….” I puffed out a sigh. “I had to leave
before the same thing happened to me that was changing everyone around me. I
wanted to keep my heart and hopes alive and warm for someone special.”

My face heated as I realized what
I’d just said. Although I’d fallen over love’s precipice with Matt fourteen
days ago, he’d never revealed his true feelings regarding me, beyond that
imprinting matter and our physical attraction. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, I
covered over my embarrassment with bitter laughter.
“
Dearleth!
The name’s all wrong.
It should be
Heartless
,” I added in
derision.

My rueful laughter stopped when
Matt’s arms tensed about me. I hoped he didn’t think I was unhinged, but I
hadn’t realized so much bitterness lay bottled up in me toward the Dearleth
Colonies and my
dear
, unloving,
opportunistic family.

“What would you do if you were
free, Kailiri?” Matt quietly asked. “Unfettered to
anyone,
and free without the worry of finances or transport. Where would you go and
what would you do?”

I stared into his fascinating eyes.
“First of all, I would be
very
lost
without you.” My voice wavered. I took several long, deep breaths to keep back
my threatening tears.

His expression remained serious. “I’ll
program a special navilog file for you.” Matt held my gaze with his. “If there
comes a time when I’m no longer aware or too ill to help you, you will call up
that navigation file from the
Stardancer’s
comp, and she will safely take you to any of the selected central system
planets on the flight program. Our marriage records and a witness document on a
microdisk are stored in the ship’s memory files. It will be released to you
when you insert the ring I’m wearing into her
ident
plate. It’s encoded. Don’t lose it.”

Matt removed the intricately
engraved band from his finger and slipped it over one of mine, where it hung
heavy, loose, and still warm from his hand. A curious emotion that I could only
describe as awed reverence settled within my heart. The ring felt special—like
a vital part of him. I would have to be careful or find a way to keep it more
securely later.

“The witness disk must be taken to
the nearest Alliance Administration Complex. All my possessions and holdings,
including this ship, which you can resell, will be released to you without
legal challenge, Kai.”

This was the first time he had ever
shortened my name. I liked it upon his lips—far better than Harry’s bellowing
rendition of it.
But the things Matt is
saying—it’s too much like his final will and testament.

My eyes
prickled, but I forced the tears to remain unshed. “Is it—are you
feeling worse, Matt?”

“I’ll show you Rikin, my lady,” he
said quietly, “then we shall see.”

“Have you been to a medicenter?
Specialists?
Have you been diagnosed—treated?”

His eyes smiled, although his lips
remained straight-lined with sternness. “I’ve visited medicenters, yes. Many
times, five years ago, when I became alarmed at what was happening to me.
Nothing could be done. I stopped seeking answers after I accepted that the
changes were the consequences from my brash actions. There was a time
allotment. That time is nearing its end.”

“
What
is it? Why can’t you tell me what it is that’s affecting you?”
I pleaded with earnest desperation.

His lips curved in a smile that seemed
to hold much rue and bitterness. “Beware the dark places, my lady,” he said
cryptically.

My heart ached for him and for the
void he’d leave if he left my life. “You said we were imprinted on each other—you
told me a little about it on Harnaru, but there’s more to it… right? What is it
and what’s it
really
doing to us?” I
whispered.

“I’ll tell you on Rikin.”

I sat silent then, with my arms
wrapped about him as the ship reported torrential rains across the planet’s
surface and began her twenty-first orbit about
Rikin
.

Chapter Seven

I was disappointed in Rikin’s
general appearance when we’d landed, even allowing for the depressing
aftermaths of a long, heavy rainstorm. Rikin was part rocky mountains and part
dark forests with little meadows. The sullen, gray, mist-laden mountains
towering over the meadows never showed their crowns. The sun didn’t peek out
during our walk, and neither were Rikin’s daytime moons visible overhead,
although Matt assured me two lurked up there, hidden by the clouds.

Unafraid small gray birds huddled
on the low shrubbery, watching us and emitting disgruntled, periodic chirps as
we passed. The vegetation-covered ground underfoot was soggy, and I was
grateful for the thick-soled boots on my feet. We both wore coveralls—Matt wore
dark blue for his trade venture, while I’d opted to wear a pair of my old
olive-greens for what promised to be a wet, muddy trek. The
Stardancer
didn’t have a wheeled
terrain-rover or a land flitter on board, so we had to walk.

Raging streams sloshed over their
swollen riverbeds into the meadow, and large mud puddles lurked everywhere,
making walking a challenge. Matt had said our destination was a nearby village
where a friendly tribal clan called the Narharis dwelled. At first the
sallow-skinned people seemed just as cheerless as their world when they watched
us approach their village with guarded, unsmiling stares.
Like Dearleth—but not quite.

Grizzled, tattooed elders emerged
from a large wooden building taller than the others and bore brightly colored,
painted symbols around the door. They greeted Matt with open welcome, like a
long-lost friend. They exchanged hearty hand clasps and many approving nods,
and I guessed he must have come there often to trade. He spoke in a rambling,
incomprehensible language with the village elders and then pulled me forward.
He must have told them I was his new wife, for the Narharis stared in
openmouthed wonder at me. Then Matt told me to go stand with the women on the
fire’s other side.
Hmmph!
But it was
either that or the Narharis-approved custom of a man’s mate kneeling at his
back during trade talks.

I chose to stand with the other
women.

The men settled into a circle on
colorful, woven rugs arranged on the hard-packed and surprisingly dry ground
around the large, smoky but crackling wood fire at the village’s center. Wooden
dwellings surrounded us, and small children played near the open doors, though
some stood solemnly watching us.

The women whispered amongst
themselves, wearing guarded expressions as their small, tawny eyes covertly
studied me from where they stood behind and beside me. They bore elaborate
green designs tattooed on their arms and legs, left exposed by their
bright-dyed garments. Their auburn brown, waist-long hair was woven into
elaborate braids. Small, colorful blossoms peeked out from behind their ears.

I could well imagine the
unfavorable comparison I must be garnering from them.

Matt was tall and comely looking in
a strong, masculine way, while I wasn’t anywhere near fragile beauty or exotic
siren material in my mud-speckled coveralls. The few passable features I
possessed weren’t on best display. I hadn’t slept well recently due to my worry
about Matt’s health. He hadn’t eaten a full meal or more than two bites at a
single time during six standard days.

I shifted the small white
plastalloy case I carried under an arm when a corner dug into my side.

A tentative touch tugged my hair. I
turned quickly to find two women crowded close behind me. They smiled
disarmingly, and one reached out with a gentle grasp to capture a dark curl
that lay over my shoulder. She whispered to her friend while I forced myself to
stand still against their curiosity. Her thin fingers gently coaxed the dark
spiral to unravel until it lengthened almost a full arm’s length. She released
the lock, and it promptly rewound itself into a fat ringlet and rejoined the
others cascading around my shoulders.

The woman laughed with evident
delight. Several others crowded near, stretching out eager hands to unravel
more curls. Stepping back and turning away didn’t deter them. They followed me.
It took much restraint not to smack those hands away.

I’m
Matt’s trade partner. I mustn’t offend his customers!

I sent him a beseeching look. He
glanced around in time to catch my distressed glance with an amused smile and
bent close to say something to an elder sitting beside him. The elder turned
and spoke to a woman kneeling meekly behind him.

She leaped to her feet and rushed
toward me, murmuring quick, incomprehensible words to my fascinated audience.
They chattered back at her, but their animated smiles fell as if disappointed.
But one by one, the women gently patted my curls and murmured something that
sounded soothing or respectful before they backed away and gave me space again.
The woman who had saved me scurried back over to kneel near the elder talking
with Matt. She said something to both of them before backing away on her knees
with a big grin.

My unruly curls were left
mercifully alone while Matt spent more long minutes conferring with the elders.
They exchanged many quick hand gestures amongst themselves. It appeared the men
were tallying up something by counting on their fingers. They seemed to
conclude a mutually favorable trade deal, for the men in the circle rose,
talking with animated excitement among themselves.

Matt moved to his feet with them.
He glanced across the fire at me and held out a hand. I trotted from the
women’s group to stand behind him. Before we’d left the ship, he’d explained
how a woman should behave in the Rikin villages, with much laughter in his
eyes. He’d asked me to follow suit so his customers wouldn’t take offense at a
wife who lacked proper respect for her man.

He also needed the small case I’d
carried. It contained one hundred vials of analgesics that the Alliance
Exobiology Trade Commission had approved for these people’s physiology. Matt
had explained they were highly valued here when the healers’ traditional
treatments failed, and because interstellar traders didn’t come there often,
the Narharis hoarded the medicine or used it for trade with other clan tribes.
He’d added that as a married man now, he would have lost face if he carried his
trade wares before these fiercely traditional-minded people.

In my modern opinion about their
belittling views regarding a woman’s place, I silently dubbed them
backward
people.
Almost as bad as my family and community
.

Matt took the case with care, and I
glanced up in time to catch his amused, tender smile before he released the lid
and turned to present its contents to the elders. Everyone crowded near as the
elder gingerly lifted a clear vial to view and then shake the white pills. A
great contented sigh went up from the Narharis.

Bitter thoughts assailed me. It was
ironic Matt was trading painkillers to these people when there was none for
whatever it was that caused him such deep pain.

One elder ceremoniously took a
battered leather pouch from a woman standing behind him. He squatted and
emptied the contents on a rug at his feet. Large semitranslucent blue stone
nuggets lay strewn upon the woven cloth. Matt dropped to one knee and picked up
one palm-sized chunk. The cloud-dampened daylight from Rikin’s sun managed to
fire the stone with glittering brilliance along the rough corners while he
examined it. The villagers all went motionless and silent as they focused on
him. They seemed to hold their collective breaths, as birds chirped in the
wilderness surrounding us and the fire logs crackled.

Matt’s dark gaze scanned over the
other stones on the rug before he nodded and returned the one he held to the
pile. The elder scooped the stones into the pouch before handing it to Matt
with a small bow, and the first genuine, spontaneous grin I’d seen upon the old
man’s somber face. Matt smiled and bowed low to the elders. I copied his bow
also, as he’d earlier instructed. The villagers’ voices filled the air as they
chattered to one another again.

Matt spoke with the elders several
more long minutes before they seemed to bid one another farewell. Then we left
the village, with me consigned to carrying the leather pouch’s hefty weight in
my role as his dutiful wife.

We walked across the meadow, which didn’t
seem quite as waterlogged
now,
and headed back to
where the
Stardancer
perched,
gracefully in a horizontal position on her landing struts.
My home for now….

When we had approached the ship,
Matt stopped and drew me into his arms. The green-gold flecks twinkled in his
eyes and gave him a boyish, mischievous look. That was my only warning before
he grasped a curl hanging above my eyes and gently pulled it far past his
shoulder. Then he released it and watched with fascinated interest as it
promptly retracted into a thick ringlet before my left eye.

Laugh crinkles appeared near his
eyes, and white teeth gleamed as his smile widened. “I envied your admirers,
Kai. I’d always wanted to do that, but was sure you’d slap me for it. The
Narharis women were right. They said your hair was full of magic—and so were
you. The village leader said you would bring me much luck with so much magic
inside you.” Matt laughed at my cynical, unamused expression as he smoothed the
recalcitrant curl from blocking my vision.

“Well, my magical trader-wife,
you’re entitled to half the profits in uncut Rikin diamonds from this day’s
work. They gave me more nuggets than usual in the past for the same trade. It
appears the Narharis are willing to pay more for wares from a married man than
an unwed one.
Especially to a man with a
magical
woman at his beck and call.
My personal worth has
increased, you see—but understand, doll, you’re still nothing in their eyes.
You’re only personal property, despite your uniqueness and all the luck you’re
supposed to bring me.”

The intentionally provoking, wicked
glint in his dark eyes made me laugh. I thrust the weighty leather pouch at him.
“Here. That bag’s heavier than the case you made me carry to honor your oh-so-lofty
status as a married man, Matt Lorins.”

He took the pouch, but raised his
dark eyebrows high in exaggerated mock offense at my effrontery.
That made me laugh
again. His playful moments were rare.

“Do you regard me as personal
property, Matt?” I banished amusement and tried to mold my expression into
stern seriousness, but it was a struggle.

“Very much so, Kai,” he murmured,
and his lips sought mine, and I yielded with eagerness until he pulled away. “You’re
the most precious possession that I’ve ever hoped to own and probably don’t
deserve.” His voice was rough-edged. “Stay here. I’m going to put our fairly
won trade prize inside the ship’s airlock, and then I have a promise to keep to
you. The Narharis won’t mind if we linger longer on their lands.”

Matt approached the
Stardancer
and touched her lower section to
uncover the ident plate. He spoke his name and pressed a hand on it. The hatch
opened and the ramp stairs extended for him. Matt ran lightly up and dropped
the pouch inside the small airlock compartment that guarded the cabin’s
interior door. He descended the ramp and watched the airlock door reseal and
the ramp retract into the ship’s underbelly before reinstating his locking
code.

He returned to my side with a
somber expression. “There are two more things I want you to remember, if the
inevitable should occur before we sell the Rikin diamonds, Kai. They’re going
into the cargo bay’s vault when we return. Use the ship code to unlock it.
There’s a jeweler on Tivat whom I trust. His name is Seth Medlock. I’ve sold
raw stones to him for several years and he’s a good friend. You’ll find his
shop’s name, location, and contact data in the comp files I made for you. Tell
no one you have those stones. They have high market value: raiders and
cut-throats will track you. Take them only to him. Show Seth my ring and tell
him you were my wife. He’ll give you a better than fair price in trade.
Promise?”

My heart pounded with spiked alarm
at the unsettling things he’d combined in those instructions. Disbelief and
grief at the thought of him leaving me caused hot prickling in my eyes. I
clasped one hand over the other where I wore his band and held them both over
my heart.

Matt’s stare focused with
unblinking intensity upon me while he waited for me to pull myself together.

I sniffed back threatening tears
and forced myself to nod once. “The vault… and Seth Medlock on Tivat…,” I
repeated in an unsteady, tight voice.

“Good. Come, dear heart. Let’s go
over there and sit in the light of this blue star while I tell you about the
man who existed before Matt Lorins.”

Ice slipped into my body at his
words. I allowed him to lead me around a large puddle, almost a small pond. We
slogged across the meadow beyond the ship to a scattered grouping of knee-high
white boulders. He sat on a broad, flat-topped rock and pulled me down beside
him. He encircled my waist, holding me close. We sat silent listening to
mournful cries from meadow birds and chastising chatter from small creatures
hidden nearby in the grasses. Then Matt quietly spoke with slow reluctance.

“I have decided to tell you all of
it, dear heart. You have the right to hear it. The beginning is unimportant,
because life never had much meaning for me in those days, until my sire
informed me that I’d achieved the legal adult age and I could attain my
majority shares in our family’s investments. Like you, Kai, my home fostered no
warm feelings within me for its members. Mine was discordant family. Everyone
was suspicious of one another. No one lost the opportunity to undermine another
family member.