The Morcai Battalion: Invictus Part 9

"Of course."

Dtimun felt the impact of emotion like a blow. He sat down on the edge of his desk. He had never considered that there might be even one child. And now...

"A warrior should have many children," the old fellow said. "Male and female. But he should spend time with them, give them affection and guidance, and love them. I have failed terribly in this regard. My aim was conquest, and I sacrificed everything and everyone dear to me in that goal. My regrets are legion, my sorrows without number. I grieve for my dead children, and my lack of insight that might have spared them in the flower of adulthood."

Dtimun had a faraway look in his eyes, which were a somber blue. "Komak was fond of blaming fate for these tragedies. Karamesh, he called it. He had a philosophical outlook which I lack."

"He is a student of many fields, and an expert in some. His accomplishments will revolutionize our world, and many other worlds. He will be quite famous in the future."

"Who is he?"

There was a pause. "I will tell you, when the time comes. It has not, yet. First things first. You must maintain contact with me covertly. I will help, if I can."

"I am grateful."

"You take great risks, you and the warwoman, for an enemy."

"Chacon was never that, personally."

"I know. It grieves me that we find ourselves in opposite camps," the old one told him. "Chacon will eventually overthrow his government, however, and unite his people with the Cehn-Tahr."

"You have been listening to Caneese's prophecies," Dtimun chuckled.

"No. I have been listening to Komak," came the dry reply.

"He told me very little."

"He did not dare," the old fellow replied. "The future is not set in stone. It can be altered. He told me the timeline and made me promise not to interfere in any of this. I could only get him to agree to let me contact you and provide help when I could. This he permitted, and he did finally understand why I concealed public knowledge of my part in these actions."

"It is a strange concept, making the future."

"Very strange. But if you succeed, the future is a.s.sured." He paused again. "You must take great care of your mate and my grandchild. Caneese and I are quite excited."

Dtimun laughed. "So am I."

"Do not let the warwoman out of your sight."

"You may depend on that."

"And take great care of yourself, as well," came a quieter, more intense admonition. "We have been at odds for decades. But there was never a time when I did not love you, or wish you well. You are my only son. I...could not bear to give you up."

Dtimun bit his lip and tried to conceal the rush of emotion the confession drew from him. He was not successful.

"And do not offer to trade the warwoman for a Yomuth at Benaski Port!" came a gruffer, humorous addition.

Dtimun laughed. "It was a joke. I would never have done it." He paused. "Lawson will find it difficult to pursue his combat strategies, now that I have withdrawn the Holconcom. I am certain that it has caused great anguish in the Council. But it was the only way I could get around Amba.s.sador Taylor's orders, and to save Madeline. The humans give their amba.s.sadors more power than even their political leaders."

"I know that. The Dectat knew, also, and your actions were approved. As it happens, they produced a grand result, the treaty with the Nagaashe. No one will oppose your bonding in the Dectat now. In fact, it will be acclaimed."

Dtimun sighed. "I am in your debt."

"Of course you are. I am your father," came the smug reply. "Let this be a lesson to you. As when you were very young, you cannot hide things from me."

"In the future, I will not try to."

"Wise thinking. We will speak again. Walk with care."

And he was gone.

Dtimun wondered whether or not to share his conversation with his father with Madeline, and decided against it. His father was risking a great deal to offer him support, even in his position. One innocent slip of the tongue could make much mischief. He couldn't risk that. Not yet.

CHAPTER SIX.

Benaski Port was built on an asteroid in the Catarus Belt, as it was called locally, a point roughly midway between the planetary systems of the Cehn-Tahr Empire and the Tri-Galaxy Council of Planets. It was the most lawless place known to humanoid life-forms, because no formal law existed there. There was Port Security, but it was a joke; its officials could and did take bribes.

Outlaws and outcasts, pirates and their pursuers, diplomats and beggars, lived in a colorful neon jungle of light and shadow, all situated under a huge gla.s.s bubble on the asteroid's surface. Gla.s.s, on a terrestrial planet, would shatter easily. But on an airless moon or asteroid, it attained the strength of steel.

There were cheap apartments midtown and luxurious dwellings on the outskirts of the city, near the s.p.a.ceport. It was to the latter that the skimmer delivered Dtimun, Madeline, and Sfilla.

"I will handle all the arrangements," Sfilla a.s.sured them, climbing out first. She ran toward the main building of the small complex. There were artificial plants and flowers in stone planters, and a holopond, complete with CGI fish. It looked very real. Madeline almost trailed her fingers through the "water"

before she realized what she was doing.

Dtimun, indulgent, smiled at her. "Even in an artificial atmosphere, the gravity here would be too uncomfortable for fish."

"I should have known that." She smiled shyly.

He looked at her with pure male appreciation of her obvious pregnancy under the pretty blue robes she wore.

"Is my nose on crooked?" she asked self-consciously.

"Certainly not. I was thinking that pregnancy suits you," he added in a soft, deep tone.

She flushed a little. It was difficult, this new relationship. And still harder to reconcile the humanoid male in front of her with the taciturn commander of the past few years.

He moved closer. "It is difficult for me, as well," he confessed. "Our relationship, while turbulent, has always been non-physical."

"I never thought of males as anything but comrades," she tried to explain. "I was honest when I told you, at the beginning, that I had no idea what was normal female behavior."

"I believe you are better informed now," he said, and although he didn't smile, his lack of expression was suspicious.

"Sir!" she said with mock embarra.s.sment. Then she spoiled it by grinning wickedly.

He chuckled and turned away. Sfilla was returning. "It is just up here," she said. "They will bring our luggage presently." She led the way.

The suite was exquisite. Madeline had never known luxury, until she arrived at the fortress on Memcache.

This was almost as opulent. There were chairs and loungers everywhere, at least two of which were antigrav chairs, which could be moved to any location by means of switches on the armpads. There was a high deck with artificial plants and flowers, and a low deck with a pool.

"The water in that one is real," Dtimun told her. "It has temperature control and jets for ma.s.sage."

She stared at it, entranced. "I've never been deliberately immersed in water in my life," she said. That was true. Recycled chemical showers took the place of water on ships. She glanced at him, grinning. "I don't think being thrown into a mudhole by an enemy soldier counts."

He laughed. "It does not."

"What would one wear in that?" she wondered, indicating the pool.

He was silent.

She turned back and stared at him until she got the message, and then she chuckled. "I'm going to check out the kitchen." She escaped to the sound of deep laughter.

Sfilla joined her. She laughed, too. "He would never enter such a body of water unclothed with a female,"

she whispered to Madeline. "No Cehn-Tahr male would. It would be, how do you humans say, indiscreet."

"Really?" Madeline was impressed.

"Just as you are discreet, so is he," Sfilla said gently. She studied Madeline's glowing complexion curiously. "He is so different with you. In all my years with the family, I have rarely heard him laugh, or seen him happy."

Madeline smiled at her. "I drive him nuts on the ship," she pointed out.

"Nuts?"

"Crazy," Madeline told her. "I don't mean to. It just seems to happen."

Sfilla shook her head. "A female on a warship. It is a strange concept."

"Wearing robes is a strange concept," she countered. "I've worn a uniform since I was about three years old."

"That is sad," Sfilla said.

"It was exciting, though. I learned to use a sniper kit my first year in the military. I was incredibly gifted, they said."

"Gifted." Sfilla managed to look shocked. It was a deliberate expression, behind which a smile lurked that Madeline did not notice.

"I know," Madeline said gently. "It's a strange concept. What do we have to eat? I'm starving!"

"That is the influence of the child," the Cehn-Tahr woman said gently. "He grows quite fast."

"I have noticed," Madeline said, one hand resting on the firm mound of her belly. She smoothed her fingers over it absently, wondering what her child would look like, if he would favor her or Dtimun more.

Then she realized that she would never know, and the sadness swept over her like a cold wave.

Sfilla noticed the change of expression, but she didn't say anything. She went to make food.

Dtimun came up behind Madeline. His lean hands caught her shoulders. "You must not think of it," he said quietly.

"I know. It's hard, that's all." She turned and looked up at him with wide, soft eyes. "I didn't understand what it would be like, to carry a child. It's very different, the reality."

He took her face in his hands and bent to lay his forehead gently against hers. "Very different," he agreed.

She drew in a long breath. Her hands rested softly on the front of his robe, against his broad chest. "I'm so tired," she said.

"That is the influence of the child," he said with affection.

She opened her eyes and lifted her head. She wondered if he was comparing this pregnancy with the one before, that of the woman he loved.

"In fact, I was not," he said softly. His face tautened. "She was not pregnant. And I never knew it, until I felt the child inside you. For decades, I blamed your old fellow for her death and the loss of my child.

Only now am I certain that she never carried one."

Her heart jumped. "But you said...!"

"She told me there was to be a child," he replied. "I understood nothing about pregnancy. Now I know the difference."

She was thinking that if the woman lied about her pregnancy, she might have lied about other things.

"Yes," he said aloud.

He let her go and moved away, troubled by his own thoughts.

Madeline watched him in silence. She couldn't think of anything to say that would help. That realization must have been very painful for him.

She was grateful for Sfilla's covert tutoring. She hadn't realized that the Cehn-Tahr woman was a minor telepath until their last day on Memcache, when she had slipped and revealed it. That had allowed Madeline to ask her for help, to block the commander from her thoughts. Some of them were disturbing.

She had in mind going back to the Amazon Division as soon as this mission was over. She didn't want him aware of her plans. If it ever became known that Madeline had been pregnant with his child, he would be disgraced, and she was determined to keep the secret. Even with the memory wipe, a detailed physical scan would reveal that there had been a pregnancy. She couldn't risk Dtimun's career, or his life, again. She would arrange her affairs so that when they returned, she could report immediately to Admiral Mas.h.i.ta. And Dtimun would not know, until it was too late. She placed her hand on the small mound of her belly and felt the pain all the way to her soul.

That night, she stood on the balcony overlooking the Silken Strip in the distance, the loop of neon lights that seemed to go on forever. On the bleak asteroid, it was a band of color and life.

There was no real atmosphere, except what was created under the blister dome that contained the outpost, but she felt something like wind whip her hair away from her face. Her life had never been so complicated. This tiny being inside her was causing her to feel things she'd never imagined.

Dtimun joined her. "You must not brood over the future," he said firmly. "It only distorts the present."

"Yes, well, I don't imagine you've ever been pregnant, sir, so you won't be able to see my point of view."