The Ninth Orb (33 page)

Eden saw without surprise that they’d been escorted. Ten Xtanian warriors were ranged around the room, including Baen.

Tension settled as a knot in the pit of her stomach as she considered ordering the guards from the room and the possible consequences of doing so.

She didn’t feel up to the possibility of a challenge in authority at the moment. Moreover, the Xtanians either already knew everything--or they knew nothing because they couldn’t understand the language.

It seemed a little like trying to close the barn door after all of the cows had already escaped.

She decided to simply ignore them, but she removed her translator very deliberately, switched it off and set in on the conference table. Without so much as a blink, the other women removed theirs, as well.

“I’m sure some of you have guessed by now why I called this meeting. Deb informed me earlier this morning that we have a … situation that will have a tremendous impact on the decision we made months ago to seek an alternate location for the colony.”

Several of the women exchanged looks, but it was Ivy who spoke. “I was under the impression that that plan was merely a contingency, in case we discovered that it was necessary for the safety of the colonists to remove to a new location.”

Eden shrugged. “It was. It still is. Moreover, we have not located a site that is even nearly as good as this world. If worse comes to worse, there’s still the option of heading back toward Earth and settling on one of the other worlds.

“At least, I considered that an option before. I don’t feel particularly comfortable with the thought of trying to transport fetuses. Even with the incu-sys units, they are very, very fragile at this stage of development. I think the risks to them would be high.”

This time instead of merely exchanging glances, the women began trying to talk all at once. It was hard to catch individual remarks, but the general consensus was that no one wanted to take the risk.

Eden studied her hands. “That being the case, I’m fairly certain the alternative won’t appeal to any of you, but it is my duty to point out the option nevertheless. We came with donors, anticipating a need that hasn’t arisen. We don’t have to consider the fetuses, at all.”

As understanding dawned, they paled one by one. “Abandon them, you mean?” Liz demanded, aghast at the suggestion.

“That’s one possibility.”

“Why would we have to?” one of the women cried out. “I don’t see why we’d have to! And I won’t! I’ll stay. The rest of you can go if you want to!”

It took Eden several minutes to get everyone relatively quiet again. “I don’t want to. This isn’t personal with me. I’m trying to make a decision that will be in everyone’s best interests. Don’t make me the villain here.

“Liz, it was you who warned me of the dangerous situation that could arise from flouting their customs, and you, Ivy, who most loudly vetoed the idea of integrating our colony with that of the Xtanians to begin with. As you also pointed out, one on one, we don’t even come close to being capable of defending ourselves if the need arose. Militarily, they out number us three to one.

“And their social structure is presenting problems for us. None of us are physically or emotionally capable of handling pazaans. I’m not. Considering our history, I don’t think we could go so far as to claim to be truly monogamous, but we are still more accustomed to one on one relationships.

“The long term has to be considered on this, because the mental and emotional health of our colony is just as important as the physical health and well being.

“We also have to consider that, even though they outnumber us three to one, their entire culture is based on the broods remaining together. They would suffer from any attempt to split them up because the bond between them is far stronger even than the bonds siblings generally form. They are telepaths, mentally joined even though we see no physical joining between them.”

She could see from their faces that none of the women had realized that particular fact, but she waved a dismissing hand at those who wanted to question it.

“The point is, it can’t happen, and that means that we could be looking at conflict within our own colony between the haves and the have nots.”

“Well, I know three who already have more than their fair share,” Marion Lynden put in testily.

Eden glared at the woman, but she wasn’t surprised at the accusation. She was more surprised that she hadn’t already heard complaints. “If you’re too stupid to grasp that that is not a circumstance that I, Liz, or Ivy are particular delighted about, then you should certainly be able to grasp ‘screw up’,”; Eden snapped before she thought better of it. “One brood is certainly enough--more than enough. But since I have no intention of allowing someone else to suffer for my mistakes, I deal with it. We all deal with it.”

“You could choose to give the unwanted broods as gift to another.”

Eden--every woman at the table--swiveled around sharply at the male voice that intruded.

Baen ignored the stares of the other women, his gaze unwavering as it locked with Eden’s. “They would not be shamed in that way. It is acceptable.”

Eden merely stared at him blankly, too stunned to discover he could speak and understand their language so fluently to be able to think of anything to say. She’d suspected he had some grasp of it long since, but she had not really believed he’d mastered their tongue. She’d been thinking more in terms of him having picked up a small vocabulary.

He swallowed uneasily. “We are a peaceful people. We have never offered a threat to you. We would never do so, but if you feel that you must go, that you can not be comfortable living among us, then there is no need to go to another world. This one is large enough. We will go far from this place and you will have no need to go at all.”

Eden felt tears burn her eyes and nose and clog her throat.

She fought the urge back with an effort, dragged her gaze from Baen and looked at the other women. They were studying their hands, or the table, uncomfortably. Eden cleared her throat. “This meeting is at an end, ladies,” she murmured huskily.

Pushing herself up from her chair, Eden moved to stand in front of the window while the women filed out.

Chapter Twenty Four

Eden saw Baen’s reflection as he moved to stand behind her moments before she felt the warmth of his nearness. He didn’t touch her, and yet she could feel the insidious invasion of her senses that always threw her into chaos, that made thinking optional and feeling treacherously appealing. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “When I accepted this position, I don’t think I ever really anticipated a time or a situation where I would feel conflicted between my responsibilities as the president of the colony and my personal feelings.”

She paused and a wry smile curled her lips. “On a personal level, I don’t think I ever truly distrusted you or felt threatened by you in any way. I was wary, yes, a little uneasy, very confused, but I wanted to trust you because ….” She broke off and dragged in a shuddering breath, clearing her throat uncomfortably again.

“The first time I saw you, you just … took my breath. I couldn’t think, not rationally, anyway. All I could do was feel, and I knew that wasn’t something I could trust, not as woman, and certainly not as a leader who had the responsibility for the lives of two hundred colonists.”

“It was much the same for me the day you came,” Baen said huskily. “When you came with the others, I could not tear my eyes from you, or move. I did not think to breathe even until I began to grow dizzy and remembered that I had forgotten to. I am not at all certain, but I think I was terrified. My knees quaked and my heart beat so hard I thought it would burst through my chest.”

The comment dragged a shaky chuckle from her and she tilted her head to look back at him. The look in his eyes made her heart skitter to a painful halt, however, made her mouth go dry, and thought fled.

“I was struck deaf, and mute, and stupid, and blind to all else around me but you. To me, you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and for many, many moments I could not think beyond that. And then I realized that you were also the smallest woman I had ever seen before, and the boldest, and you were not frightened at all to look up at me and command me to do your bidding. That made me nervous, for I thought, if she is so small and feels no fear, then she has reason to feel none.”

Eden chuckled, realizing that he was teasing her. “Liz is smaller than me,” she said pointedly and then it occurred to her to wonder if he had found what must have seemed very strange to him appealing. Surely, given the fact that Xtanian women were larger than the men, their notion of beauty and desirability was not the same as the men she was familiar with? Had he been drawn to her anyway? Or because of the difference?

Maybe it had been the latter, she thought, realizing that part of what had drawn her to him was the fact that he was so exotic. She hadn’t found him appealing in spite of the fact that he had wings and horns. She’d been fascinated by the fact that he did. The differences between him and the men she’d known before had added to her excitement and enthrallment with him.

Obviously, it went beyond that, for there were others of his kind also winged and horned, and he was still infinitely more appealing to her than anyone else.

He shrugged. “But I did not see Liz. I saw no one but you.”

She looked away, uncertain of whether or not she believed that.

He caught her shoulders, turning her to face him and capturing her face between his hands so that she had to look up at him. “You made me think things that I had never thought before. From that moment, I could think of nothing beyond claiming you for my brood and that is not done among us. Never has a male had the choosing. And certainly never a warrior. It was not my place, not my right, and I still could think of nothing else.

“Stay with us, Edie. We are your devoted slaves. We will care for you as no other would, attend to your comfort, protect you from all threat of harm. Do not allow the others to persuade you to leave us.” He swallowed convulsively. “Do not allow that one to take our young from your belly. I know that we are not … the same, but they will be strong and worthy of life.”

A sense of deflation hit her at that. It hurt and because it did it produced a spark of anger in response. Catching his wrists, Eden dragged his hands from her cheeks. “You misunderstood,” she said flatly, turning away from him again and moving closer to the window to stare blindly at the cityscape. “As you pointed out yourself, we are smaller than the women of your world, too small to safely carry so many and deliver healthy babies. The discussion was not about disposing of them. It was about protecting them so that they had a better chance of developing into strong, healthy babies. They will be removed to incu-sys, synthetic, biological wombs designed to protect them throughout development.”

He moved closer, hesitated for several moments and finally dropped his hands to his sides when she stiffened as he reached for her. “She said that one was mine. Is that …. Did I misunderstand that as well?”

Eden frowned. “No. You didn’t misunderstand. One is yours--the others your brothers.”

He swallowed audibly. “She could not be wrong?”

Eden shook her head. “No. She could not.”

He was silent for many moments. “Mine is female?” he asked finally, cautious excitement threading his voice.

His obvious pleasure in the knowledge that she was carrying his daughter warmed her and yet Eden couldn’t help but feel cheated and painfully disappointed. Maybe love was overrated, she thought dully. Passion was excitement, fire, a feast of the senses, and Baen gave her that without restraint, made it clear with every touch, every kiss, the look in his eyes that he felt all that she felt, perhaps even more. His brothers gave her that same fiery passion unstintingly. They were willing, more than willing--eager to do whatever it took to please her, sexually, and otherwise.

It was stupid and greedy to whine for more than she already had.

But she knew the passion she felt for Baen was just an extension of the love she felt for him. Without the love, she might still have felt desire, and yet she knew it would not have been nearly as powerful, and certainly not as enduring, growing stronger each time they made love instead of mellowing and cooling with familiarity.

It still hurt that she’d been trying to tell him she loved him, and he had spoken about desire, called himself and his brothers ‘devoted slaves’.

It was unreasonable. She might never fully grasp what his life had been like before because she had no similar experience to draw from, but she did realize that he had no reason to understand love and, never having been taught it in any form, he probably could not feel it.

“You are … not pleased,” he murmured after a moment, and, because she loved him, she heard the hurt in his voice. “Is it because one is mine?”

From out of no where the urge to cry swept through her again. Her chin wobbled in spite of all she could do. “I love you,” she said shakily. “I could not be more pleased, or more humbly grateful that I have been given the chance to bear your child.”

He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “What is wrong, then?”

“Nothing. It’s silly,” she said, sniffing.

“It is neither nothing, nor silly, if it makes you unhappy.”

She covered her face with her hands. “I want you to love me back,” she muttered lamely.

His hands tightened on her shoulders. “I do not know what this word is. I have not heard it,” he said slowly.

“You have not felt it either,” Eden snapped, pushing his hands from her shoulders angrily.

“How do you know what I feel?” Baen asked, his voice rough with both anger and confusion. “Explain.”

She turned to look up at him. “I can’t. It’s … complicated.”

His expression hardened. “I am not stupid. I can understand if you explain.”

Eden pushed away from him, pacing for several moments, feeling irrationally angry and abused at the demand to explain, when she’d wanted spontaneity. It really ruined the effect, she thought, when one had to explain. How could she know, even if she managed it, and he then told her he loved her, that he really did and wasn’t just saying so because she’d already stupidly told him she wanted it?