The Ninth Orb (14 page)

Eden reddened all over again. She saw when she looked at him that he was determined to pursue it because he could see she wanted to avoid the direction of the conversation, not because of any doubts in his mind.

Trar the tease, she made a mental note. She cleared her throat. “It’s from an ancient mythology--a place.”

“Very appropriate for you, though, yes?”

Eden felt her jaw sag.

Liz laughed. “I think I’ll just mosey over to the refreshment table and see what goodies they’ve cooked up for us.”

“Trar has no manners,” another of the men spoke at once. “If queen Eden permits, I will gladly serve you. I am Cal, first born of Sademeen’s seventh brood.”

Eden shifted uncomfortably as she met the gazes of all four men and Liz’s amused one.

“You won’t mind loaning him to me, will you, Eden?” Liz asked sweetly.

“Shut up, Liz,” Eden muttered, giving her friend a ‘behave yourself’ look before she focused on Cal, the male who’d brought her plate. “Thank you. You should all go and find whatever you’d like to eat,” she added, realizing finally, with a good bit of discomfort, that they must be waiting for her to dismiss them.

“The queens have not all been served.”

“He is Pizan, and the ugly one there is Vladiv, and they are all far more rude than I, for I at least introduced myself,” Trar said, giving the other two men a provoking glance. The ‘ugly’ one certainly wasn’t ugly. He was by far the most handsome of the four. He took exception to the slight, however, his face growing taut and dark with color and his hands balling into fists as if he was resisting the urge to wrap his fingers around his brother’s throat.

“If they wait until all the ‘queens’ have eaten there might not be anything more than scraps left for them,” Liz muttered under her breath.

Eden elbowed her in the ribs warningly. She curled her lips into a plastic smile. “It is our custom that the men and women eat together--at the same time. We will be embarrassed if our guests only serve food to us and don’t eat anything themselves.”

The brothers all exchanged looks. After that non-verbal communication, all but Trar wandered toward the table. Trar settled himself closely beside her on the grass as Eden, after looking around and realizing there weren’t enough tables and chairs, finally sat down on the green, folding her legs and settling her plate precariously on her lap.

“I will stay and feed you.”

“You will not!” Eden gasped, too rattled by the image that popped into her mind to consider before she spoke.

He looked taken aback. “This is not custom either?” he asked doubtfully.

“No,” Eden retorted almost sulkily, feeling her head begin to pound with tension and too desperate for a little respite to worry overmuch about diplomacy.

Dismissed, he rose and followed the others. Eden nibbled at her food, watching, but she quickly saw that they had no intention of breaking with their own traditions. When the men reached the table they simply joined the others ferrying plates of food to the women of the colony.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Liz said chidingly. “I think you hurt his feelings and he was being so sweet and playful.”

Eden sighed. “I know. I didn’t mean to snap at him, but this is really getting on my nerves, Liz. I feel--smothered. I don’t know how their women handle so much attention.”

Liz held her tongue as Cal returned and presented her with a plate and a beverage glass. When he’d left, she glanced at Eden. “You should try to relax and just be yourself. You’re not feeling smothered. You’re feeling the pressure of trying to be diplomatic--which you aren’t doing a very good job of anyway--instead of speaking and behaving freely. Stop worrying so much about making a mistake. This whole thing was devised so we could find out if interaction between our two cultures was possible. We, none of us, are going to be comfortable if we try to adapt ourselves to their way of thinking and doing things. I’m sure we’ll have to compromise, but ideally we would all compromise, not just the colonists. And, remember, as far as we know now, their society is matriarchal in nature. That means they will expect us to make demands of them. Sademeen said they were all very young. If that’s true then they probably aren’t as set in their ways as the older males and it should be easier for them to adjust to doing things the way we do.”

Eden studied her friend doubtfully. “I don’t want trouble today.”

“Better now than after they ‘invade’, don’t you think? We’re supposed to be gauging their reaction to the differences in our cultures. We can’t very well do that if we tiptoe along trying not to offend them by doing everything their way. And that sure as hell isn’t going to give us a clear picture of what it would be like if we decided to take them as companions. I, for one, don’t particularly care for the rigidness of their customs. I’d never be able to relax if I was constantly worried about offending.”

Eden thought that over. “So you’re suggesting we initiate them into our own customs and try to convert them. Isn’t that against the ‘laws of interference’?”

Liz sighed impatiently. “I suggested a compromise. You know as well as I do that any congress between them and our colonists is going to result in ‘interference with their customs and beliefs’. I can see the point in the law, and that’s all very noble of them, but damned impractical in practice. If we’re around them, they’re bound to pick things up from us whether we try to influence them or not. And I just don’t see this working if we don’t try to work out some sort of compromise.”

Eden set her plate aside and sat watching the people moving around the green, laughing, talking excitedly--Clearly the colonists saw this as an opportunity for more than platonic interaction. Quite a few of them were blatantly flirting and a number of the males looked like they would’ve bolted and headed back for the stag retreat if they’d thought they could.

Deciding to pretend she hadn’t noticed when she saw that Ivy, true to her word, was very busy refereeing the party, Eden glanced at Liz again. “You think we could convince them to consider our own customs regarding companions?”

Liz frowned. “I don’t think we can go that far. They’ve clung to their way of doing things for generations. If they’d seen a reason to change, or enough of them had been against it, they would have changed before now. Besides, the possible consequences worry me. If every one of the colonists decided to settle with one, that would leave more than two thirds of them over there to brood over the slight. They might simply accept, as they seem to have accepted being banished, or they might not.”

She fell silent, thinking. From her expression, they weren’t very pleasant thoughts. “This is a real mess, you know, no matter what we do. One of my chief concerns is the inevitable exchanges. Nobody is interested in a lifetime commitment--especially now when we could live several hundred years--and you know when we can’t get along with our own men for more than a few years at the time we aren’t going to be able to get along with them. Unless I learn otherwise, I’m assuming they mate for life. I mean, if we can still correlate their culture with similar cultures on Earth, then, once in, never out--unless they were dragged out and butchered for fooling around outside the harem.”

Those comments made Eden wish she hadn’t just eaten. Her belly clenched, making her feel just a little nauseous. Like everyone else on the mission, she’d taken oath and signed a contract stating that she agreed to ALL of the terms. One of those was that she would continue to take the anti-aging drugs for as long as it was necessary to establish a thriving colony--and nobody knew, yet, how long that would extend life, but the expectation was two hundred years at a minimum. Since the same drug that extended life indefinitely also had the effect of severely restricting reproduction, it could take a very, very long time before all of the colonists had managed to produce the minimum offspring decided upon--two. Unless they decided to dose their partners, then there was probably going to be a huge gap in life spans. Beyond that potential problem, she realized there was another no one had even considered.

The Xtanians formed family groups with the expectation of offspring. They were going to be very outdone when they discovered Earth women did not have multiple births, hardly ever anyway. And when, and if, they discovered that they wouldn’t even be the contributors, they were liable to take that badly, too.

She frowned thoughtfully, wondering if there was any real reason they had to opt for the frozen pops instead of the Xtanian contributions. They were human, after all. Going by the letter of the agreement, they were only supposed to use the pops, but that was to ensure a good gene pool, and because no one had expected them to run into perfectly good donors half way across the universe.

The donors from Earth had been very carefully screened, though. Beyond that, as carefully selected representatives of each of the races of Earth, everyone knew they were expected to maintain that balance and ensure at least one more generation carried their race’s undiluted genetics. It wasn’t in the contract, because even though everyone had not only agreed to it, they had all wanted it, it was still prohibited to put anything of that nature into a contract.

“I suppose in the back of my mind I knew that,” she responded to Liz’s comment finally. “That’s probably the main reason I’ve been so reluctant to do as Ivy suggested. I think I’m just way too used to being by myself. Not only do I not see how I can juggle eight men, I don’t want to make a huge, long term commitment. I guess in some ways I can see the benefit of having so many--it’d be like changing partners regularly--and you could fight with one a while and switch to another one,” she added, grinning at Liz at her joke.

Liz chuckled, but gave her a quizzical look. “Ivy suggested you take on a brood?”

Eden grimaced. “In the interests of testing the waters to see if it’s safe for the other colonists.”

Liz laughed. “The things you have to do for us!”

Eden gave her a look. “If you want to be the first to discover how serious they are about their pazaans, be my guest. I don’t mind waiting to see if there’ll be fireworks before I decide whether to take a dip or not.”

Liz reddened. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait with baited breath to see if it’s as good as it sounds.”

Eden sighed. “I should draw lots. You can be damned sure if I do it, nobody is going to consider it a sacrifice and the potential danger for me in it.”

“Well, contrary to what Ivy seems to think, I don’t consider you expendable!” Liz snapped angrily. “The colony needs you, whether they seem to appreciate you or not.”

Warmed by Liz’s heated defense, Eden leaned toward her and hugged her impulsively. “It’s nice to know I have one friend.”

Liz hugged her back, but shook her head at Eden when she leaned away again. “You’ve got more friends that you seem to think.”

Chapter Twelve

Eden was still smiling when she glanced up to see who the ‘presence’ was that had approached while she and Liz were talking. Her smile fell when she discovered it was Baen’s brood brothers, all four that were in attendance. They ranged themselves in a semi-circle around her as they settled on the grass.

She exchanged a look with Liz, grabbing Liz’s arm when she looked like she was about to rise and leave.

“The two of you are brood brothers?”

Eden wasn’t surprised to discover they had no word for sisters in their vocabulary. She was a little surprised to discover it was Trar who’d asked the question since Liz seemed to think she’d angered him when she’d sent him on his way. “Why do ask?” she asked curiously.

Before she could even guess at his intent, he leaned toward her, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing. She felt several bones pop along her spine to say nothing of the fact that he squeezed the breath from her lungs. “What means this custom?”

It took her a moment to recover her wits after he released her. “We don’t squeeze quite that hard. The idea is to convey affection, not break bones.”

He reddened and she was immediately sorry she’d been so short with him.

Affection didn’t translate. She wasn’t really surprised, but she was a little appalled even though she’d guessed that they couldn’t possibly have experienced much along that order growing up in such huge groups.

“Affection is when you feel a strong bond or connection to someone, either someone in your own family or someone outside of it,” Liz put in hurriedly.

Trar frowned thoughtfully. “This affection is word in your tongue for what we feel when we are near Eden?”

Eden turned beet red.

Liz looked like she was struggling to keep from laughing.

Obviously, it was the concept he was having problems with, not the word.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Eden said dryly.

“I think you’re probably talking about sexual attraction, not affection, but don’t feel badly. Our men seem to have a little trouble with that distinction, too, at least where women are concerned.”

“Why don’t you and Trar and the others discuss customs while I go and check on our other guests?” Eden suggested, rising before she’d even finished speaking.

“Coward,” Liz muttered under her breath.

“Easy for you to say,” Eden shot back at her. “You don’t have four seven foot males looking you over like you’re a choice piece of steak! Stay!” she snapped as the brood brothers got to their feet. “Visit with my friend,” she added, immediately sorry and trying to smooth things over. “You need to know and understand our customs, and we need to know yours.”

Feeling more relaxed as soon as she’d managed to put a few yards between her and the men, Eden glanced around. Spotting Ivy, she headed toward her to get a report.

Ivy looked her over disapprovingly. “That wasn’t very well thought out,” she said chidingly the moment Eden stopped beside her.

Taken aback, Eden merely gaped at her. “What?”

“That little display with the big blond.”

“I didn’t do that!” Eden snapped indignantly. “I hugged Liz. He saw and he decided to give it a try. That’s all there was to it.”

“Unfortunately, the colonists that didn’t see are already being informed by those who did. I’ve been having a hard enough time making them keep their hands to themselves as it is. Somebody--I don’t know who yet--spiked the punch bowls on tables four and seven.”