The Mandala Maneuver (3 page)

“And what if I am?” she returned evenly.
Never let them see you sweat…

“I admire your persistence, even under our present conditions. However, the affairs of Zhoraan are its own. Besides, I have no doubt that my planet’s topography, vegetation, and fauna have been extensively scanned from far orbit.”

No point in denying that. “Yes,” she admitted, “but you’ve still never allowed off-worlders on your planet. Not even one still camera. Nothing. Can you blame me for being curious?”

Surprisingly, he chuckled. His laugh had a warm, rich sound, quite human in tone, even if she had no idea what exactly he was hiding under those robes.

Scratch that. She had a small idea — she’d felt his arms, and his legs, and the broad, strong expanse of his chest against her back in the capsule, which was probably more than any other human being knew of his race.

That recollection was more than a little discomfiting, for reasons she really didn’t want to go into at the moment.

“No, I suppose I cannot blame you,” he replied. “You Gaians are an inquisitive lot. I believe it would be difficult for you to deny your nature. But it is not my place to speak of such things, no matter how much you would like to know more of them.”

Well, damn. She’d expected as much, but some part of her had been hoping she wouldn’t get shot down quite so quickly. Distracted, she stumbled over a tree root, and at once Lirzhan’s strong gloved hand was on her arm, steadying her so she could regain her footing. Damn it. She’d face anyone in the galaxy across a negotiating table, even a fierce-browed Stacian, and yet here she was, tripping and blundering her way through the wilderness like the most pathetic of romance-vid heroines, needing a big strong male to protect her.

Alexa almost jerked her arm away, but she knew that would be rude. He was only trying to help, after all. Instead she mumbled, “thanks,” and waited a proper interval of a few seconds before gently easing her arm from his grasp.

He let go at once. “And what of you?” he inquired. “Were there woods nearby where you grew up?”

She let out a brief, bitter laugh before she collected herself. “Most of Gaia is pretty built up.”

That was all she could trust herself to say. She wasn’t about to let herself start spilling the intimate details of her barren childhood — the mother who had abandoned her to the Consortium’s tender mercies almost as soon as she was born, the sterile foster homes where she’d grown up. Adoption was an expensive luxury, whereas the state paid people well to foster unwanted children. Add in the fact that children raised in such homes were supposed to repay their debt to the Consortium by enlisting in the Gaian Defense Fleet, or the Exploration Commission, or the Diplomatic Corps…well, she’d chosen the latter because it had seemed the most appealing to her, but she never forgot that her life wasn’t entirely her own, that she was expected to give at least another ten years after graduating from college to the service before she could even think of doing anything else. And at that point, what else could she do? She had no other skills, no other education. It was quite a clever trap.

Of course she could not tell this alien any of that. It was none of his concern, after all.

“There are still some preserves where the natural landscape has been maintained,” she continued, hoping he hadn’t detected any hesitation in her reply. “But the population pressure was just too great to not develop as much of the land masses as possible.”

“Yes, I have read of that,” Lirzhan said. “And seen vids and stills, but it does not seem quite real to me, that a world could be so paved over.”

Maybe she was just feeling on edge, but she thought she noted a tinge of condemnation in his voice. “We did what we had to do. It is what it is.”

“Of course,” he said immediately, and this time she could definitely hear the apology in his tone. “We must all walk our own paths. Speaking of which” — he lifted her tablet and eyed the coordinates and topo map displayed on it — “we must veer to the north a few degrees. That way.”

He pointed with his free hand, and Alexa felt a prickle of unease work its way down her spine. So far they’d been following a more or less undemanding route through the trees, generally using the “path of least resistance” method as long as it kept them basically on track. But the direction Lirzhan had just indicated had a steep incline, and the trees seemed to crowd more thickly there, as if there were more competition for sunlight in that part of the wood.

Yes, she’d always made sure that she worked out on a regular basis, as the best defense against traveling from planet to planet and dealing with differences in gravity and climate was to be in shape. However, there was a world of difference between exercising under carefully controlled conditions in a gym and spending what looked like the next several hours climbing up a steep hill. In dress boots. And a pencil skirt. However, she’d always aced her physicals. This would be difficult, but she’d never been one to avoid a challenge.

She wouldn’t allow herself to sigh. At least she was alive — thanks to the Zhore who stood next to her now. And perhaps the rougher terrain and thicker cover would help to hide them. She’d seen no signs of pursuit yet, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t remain wary.

Tone unruffled, she said, “No problem.”

H
e could tell
the climb was a strain for her, but he did not offer her a hand as they struggled their way over the increasingly rocky terrain which lay before them. He sensed that she did not want his help, that she needed to do this for herself, and so, barring an actual fall or a stumble that would result in physical injury, he allowed her to carry on without any assistance.

Not that he was doing all that much better himself. He could continue for some time, but soon they would need to take a break, as they had not eaten or drunk anything since leaving the capsule. Too keyed up from their narrow escape to be thinking of practicalities, perhaps. He wondered at the lack of pursuit. Had the trees hidden them from unfriendly eyes overhead? He had to hope so, as there was little they could do to protect themselves except keep moving.

The data on this world showed that it had a day of some twenty-one hours, shorter than Zhoraan, but close enough to standard that he thought he could judge the time of day more or less accurately. The sun was now a little past its zenith, and they had been walking for nearly four hours. At least they seemed to have left the predators behind in the thick woods; out here he had spied nothing more than a few avian creatures circling high overhead, but they had not come any closer. He was glad of that. One such confrontation was quite enough. Of course, he had no idea what might happen once the sun went down.

“We should stop there, under that tree,” he said, pointing toward a massive specimen with jagged blue-green leaves. He was glad of its presence, for the vegetation had become sparser as they climbed, and the sun had begun to beat down with little mercy. His robes protected him, but he could tell the heat was taking its toll on Alexa; her cheeks were flushed, and her hair had begun to stick to her forehead and neck.

She nodded, offering no protest as they covered the last few meters between themselves and the tree. Once they arrived at their destination, she gave the space before her a cursory examination before lowering herself to the ground and leaning back against the tree’s trunk.

He pulled a bag of water from the emergency kit and handed it to her. They had enough to last another day or so, but they needed to find another source, a river or stream or lake. Odd that they had not yet crossed any bodies of water yet, but he hoped that was just bad luck.

Alexa took the water and drank, but he noted she was careful about how much she swallowed, allowing herself three or four measured sips before sealing the opening once more and giving the bag to him.

“How far have we come?” she asked, and then ran a hand over her damp forehead and looked down at her moist palm with some distaste.

“Approximately twelve kilometers.” He lifted the water container to his lips and allowed himself a healthy swallow. It almost seemed as if he could taste some ghost of her essence on the thin plastic, but that, he told himself, was mere fancy.

“That’s all?”

“It was mostly uphill.”

She gave a little shrug and then looked away from him, her gaze moving over the rocky hillside around them. The tree where they had taken their rest stood on the crown of the bluff, and so the next leg appeared to be mostly downhill.

Lirzhan also wished they had covered more ground, but they had no control over the terrain, or the route they must take. It was unfortunate that the capsule had not landed closer to the science station. One would have thought it might have locked on the automated facility’s beacon. Since he did not know how precisely the capsule was programmed — it might have been set up to take the safest trajectory to a planet’s surface, rather than to the closest beacon — he decided it was useless to speculate on what might have been. He did hope that the rest of the day would be easier, so they might make up some lost time. At this rate, they would be hard-pressed to get to the science station before their food began to run out.

Tomorrow’s troubles for tomorrow
, he told himself, and pulled out a small packet of the specially dried food that seemed to inhabit emergency kits the galaxy over. He tossed it to Alexa, who caught it neatly and pulled the tab on the wrapper. Inside was a small hard bar of some brownish substance. She broke it in half and held out one piece to him.

“What is in it?” he asked, hoping it was something he could actually consume. Gaian and Zhore diets didn’t always match up.

She squinted down at the wrapper, apparently reading the contents. “Processed protein — ”

“Protein from what?” The words came out more sharply than he had intended.

Her brows drew together. “Probably some kind of animal protein. It provides the most bang for the buck, and a lot of people on Gaia have developed soy allergies, so they try to avoid using soy-based products in the kits.”

His stomach clenched. “I cannot eat animal protein.”

She stared up at him expectantly, although something in her expression told him she already knew what he was about to say.

“My people do not consume animals, or products made from animals.”

“So the Zhore are vegetarians?”

“Yes.” He wished he did not have to reveal even that much, but she would have found out sooner or later. Not that he was ashamed of his people’s dietary rules, of course not. It was only that she had seemed so eager to learn more of his race, to discover things that had been kept secret for decades. No Zhore had ever sat down at table with the Gaians — or the Eridanis, for that matter. Those in the diplomatic service might attend social functions, but they would not eat the alien food, nor drink anything save water.

She shrugged. “So are a lot of Gaians. Check the other labels. I’m sure there’s something in there you can eat.”

Her nonchalance reassured him. So his diet was not considered all that odd on Gaia? This was something he had not known. “Are you…vegetarian?” he asked, feeling his way around the unfamiliar word.

“No. That is, I’m not big on red meat — too expensive to have when I was growing up, and when I finally did try it, I didn’t like it much.” A frown pulled at her well-arched brows, and she shook her head, as if attempting to dismiss some unpleasant memory. “Anyway, I don’t go out of my way to avoid animal protein, but I’ve had plenty of meals I’ve enjoyed that didn’t have meat, either.”

He nodded, glad to know she at least didn’t have the appetites of a Stacian, and would not require him to hunt down the local fauna and roast it on a spit for her. She had mentioned nothing about using the animal he had killed for food, and he guessed the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, sheltered and civilized as she was.

With one hand he scrabbled inside the kit, found another bar, and drew it out. An examination of the tiny print in Galactic Standard on the label confirmed it had been made from a combination of beans and grains, and had nothing in it that would offend his stomach.

Relieved, he set down the kit and opened the package, taking care not to tear it so he could wrap the thin foil around the half of the bar he planned to save for later. As he did so, he glanced up at the sky again, marking the position of the sun.

“What is it?” Alexa asked, and Lirzhan could hear the fear sharpening her tone. “Do you see something?”

“Nothing, save the sun,” he told her, hoping she could sense some of the reassurance he was attempting to convey to her. “There were some avians earlier, but we must be larger than their normal prey. No, I was only attempting to determine how much more daylight we have.”

She was silent for a moment, squinting up at the sky and the faint clouds that streaked across it. “Not very much.”

“I agree. I think we only have four hours at best. Less, really, as we should locate a suitable spot to rest before the sun is fully down.”

“True.” He thought he saw her shiver, but she only broke off another bite of her protein bar and chewed it before saying, “Then I suppose we shouldn’t stay here too long,” and pushing herself to her feet.