Broken Vision 6l552z

BROKEN VISION

By

J. A. Clarke

Uncial Press Aloha, Oregon 2011

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-119-6 ISBN 10: 1-60174-119-7

Broken Vision Copyright © 2011 by Joy Clarke

Cover design Copyright Š 2011 by Judith B. Glad Background photograph: Open cluster in Cygnus: Heidi Schweiker, WIYN, NOAO, AURA, NSF In the Heart of the Tarantula Nebula Credit: ESA, NASA, ESO, & Danny LaCrue

All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher.

Published by Uncial Press, an imprint of GCT, Inc.

Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com

Dedication

To Alice, who reads everything I write before anyone else, and encourages me to keep writing anyway.

Chapter 1

Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising Grogon Asteroid Belt Pallas Four

"Counselor Shale?"

Her name reverberated in the silence of the large room and jerked her from a deep concentration.

"Are you available?"

Her assistant knew better. Maegan Shale was tempted for just an instant to ignore the interruption. Coryon's voice was calm and professional, but there was something about her tone. Maegan had learned the hard way never to ignore those somethings.

She continued to study the holographic image of a complicated nav chart rotating in front of the curved plexiwall of her office. It had yet to unlock the answer to a new safe route, and she was almost out of time.

"What is it, Coryon?"

There! Right through the middle of the moon cluster of...

"No, sir-- Please. It would be better if the counselor met you down here. Please-Maegan, he's on his way up."

Blood of Cor!

She slammed her hand down on the vid screen and saw the nav chart wink out just as the door to her office snapped open.

Too close. Too slieking close. Chills raced across her skin.

The man who strolled through the door into her office was large--head and shoulders taller than she was, and she was above average. He looked familiar, but she had no appointments today. How in the name of Sortor had he ed through building security?

"Counselor." He stepped out of the wedge of light cast by the open door into the shadows of the room. "I hadn't realized Pallas Four was experiencing an energy crisis."

"I prefer to work without lumens, and I'm a little busy right now. My assistant will be happy to schedule an appointment." And where was Coryon?

"That's the interesting thing." The male voice was deep, bittern-rough, without inflection. It was clear he didn't find it interesting at all. "Your schedule seems to be quite full."

When had he moved? His bulk was closer to her survival pack and laserray than she was. She could see the corner of the pack where it lay on the floor behind the vid screen console, right where she had left it. Too many steps away. Who would have thought she might have to defend herself inside her own office? On Pallas Four, the paradise destination of the Grogon Asteroid Belt?

"I'm sure we can find something. Let me just check with my assistant--"

"Counselor Shale." He stood paces away from her pack and her ray, legs spread, arms folded across his massive chest. "I've come a long way and I prefer we have our discussion now."

A memory nudged her. She knew this man. The air of latent danger enveloping him would be hard to forget. Where by the hearts of Crillac were Coryon and her security team? Her office should have been swarming with bodies by now.

"I'm sorry," she said coolly. "I'm very busy. I can't just drop everything to--"

"Yes," he said, "I'm sure if you try very hard, you can."

There was another irritating nudge from her memory. She fought a surge of

impatience and tried to decide if there was anything about his bulk that suggested he was armed. The bigger they were, the slower they moved generally. She might still be able to retrieve her pack. For the first time, she wished the lumens were on. He stood in the deepest shadows in the room, whether by coincidence or design, she wasn't sure.

"Very well." She gestured to a grouping of floating guest chairs behind him. "I can give you two nans, no more. Please have a seat."

For a man who had just achieved his goal, he seemed remarkably unaffected. He stood immobile, arms still crossed, just looking at her. Irritation cranked up a notch, even as the barrier in her memory tore, then closed again. She didn't need this today.

Once again, she wondered where everyone was. The doorway stood illuminated and empty.

"I prefer," he said, "to stand for now." Then he moved. Fast. His bulk cut the distance between them in half, and along the way, he somehow managed to reach over to her vid screen console and find the control that turned on every lumen in the room.

She blinked and squinted in the sudden brightness.

"Well, well. Maegan Shale. All grown up and a beauty just like her mother."

Dark hair with a hint of red in the harsh light, large body barely constrained by beige and dark green matfiber breeches and a belted tunic. Knee-length boots. The style of dress was all too familiar. He was all too familiar.

She jerked her gaze back to his face. "Do I know you?" She had met this man before. A host of bedring creatures erupted to life in her stomach.

He smiled and tilted his head. A thick lock of dark hair moved just enough. Sapphire gleamed in a three-quarter crescent on his temple. Sapphire eyes. Blood of Cor!

"Alerik!"

"So, you do . I was afraid I was about to get my feelings hurt."

Maegan's skin prickled at the smile that wasn't quite a smile. She doubted that the man had ever had his feelings hurt. Not since he'd been a child in any event, and certainly never by a woman. She doubted that he even had feelings. "What are you doing here?"

"Meeting with you, it would seem." His face was like chiseled granite-aristocratic, arrogant, unmistakably pure Mariltar nobility. How could she have missed it? Of course, it wasn't his face she'd been focused on.

"That's not what I meant, although it would be nice to be enlightened on that point as well. What are you doing on Pallas Four?"

"So many questions." He moved again, this time away from her and back to the vid console. Released from the intensity of the sapphire gaze, she felt tension turn to anxiety.

Alerik Mariltar. Everything she had run from, everything she had rebelled against, everything that had driven her to build her life on Pallas Four, in a remote corner of the Crestar System, and a galaxy away from her family on Treaine.

What was he doing here? The perfect son, an anointed clan heir of a ruling family of the Mariltar Nation. Her liege lord, should he choose to invoke the ancient custom. Fires of Crillac, what was he doing here?

He leaned over the console. "Coryon, is it?"

"Yes, sir?" Coryon's voice sounded strange and why wouldn't it? If Alerik Mariltar had turned that sapphire gaze and gleaming smile on her, she wouldn't have stood a chance.

"We'll be a while. Counselor Shale and I have some catching up to do." Alerik turned his head to flash perfect white teeth at Maegan. "Send in some food, please, and order for yourself and my team."

"Yes, sir."

"And Coryon?"

"Sir?"

"Complete privacy, if you please."

"Yes, sir."

Maegan managed to get her feet unstuck from the floor and her frozen limbs working. She leapt forward. "Now wait just a blessed nan. Coryon, you don't...I don't have time--"

He had closed off the comm link to her assistant. Coryon couldn't hear her. The door was already closed.

Alerik stepped directly into her path. Blood of Cor, he was huge. He not only towered over her, his shoulders were the width of a faron. If he kept coming, he could quite possibly crush her like an insignificant bugbat and not even notice. She took an involuntary step to the side.

Something flickered in his expression, then was gone before she could decide if it was anything more than satisfaction. Mariltar arrogance. Mariltar pride.

"You have time," he said, and stopped three paces in front of her, just as she was about to take another step to the side--never backward--in the interests of self-

preservation.

"Not today," she snapped. Really, not today. "I have two nans. For more than that, make an appointment."

"I tried making an appointment," he said. He folded his arms again. "It didn't work. Nor did the requests. Nor did the demands."

"It didn't...?" Maegan tried to jog her memory. It stuck in a repeating loop. "But only the-- Blazing starpits, you can't be!"

"Yes. I can be." His mouth stretched in an imitation of a smile. "I'm the new governor of the Grogon Asteroid Belt."

* * * *

Green eyes blazed with fury in her stunned face. Alerik turned away to hide his amusement.

"One would almost think," he said, as he strolled to the curved plexiwall of the room, "that you have a problem with authority."

The view was stunning. Pallas Four's reputation as paradise was not exaggerated.

"Oh, yes. I now. You do have a problem with authority."

Lush gardens and sparkling aqua beaches weren't nearly as compelling as the woman in the room. He pivoted to face her again. "Interesting and a touch ironic that you're the sole arbitrator here, which means that you're the local authority on Pallas Four."

She tilted her chin. Her nostrils flared. Her body was rod-stiff. "What are you implying?"

"Implying? Implications can be messy things. So let me make it quite clear, hmm?" He stepped closer. "You run the largest corporation on Pallas Four and, in your spare time, you serve as judge and jury for any disagreements that arise. Surely there's a conflict of interest in there somewhere?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Governor, but if you'd spent any time at all studying the legal system of Grogon, you'd know we do things a little differently here."

"And doing things differently includes ignoring your new chief, or is that just a result of your problem with authority?"

If it were possible, Maegan's slender body stiffened even further. "Governor Meelor allows his arbitrators to exercise the authorities given to us. He doesn't see the need for close oversight or meetings."

Which was partly why Governor Meelor was now enjoying an early retirement.

"I'm not Governor Meelor. You work for me now. When I request a meeting, I expect to be accommodated."

Even pink-faced with anger, Maegan Shale would turn heads. Her Mariltar heritage, courtesy of her father, was evident in the glowing dark emerald eyes and high cheekbones. Strong, sharp Mariltar features had been softened and rounded by her Earth mother's genetic contribution. Her mother had also ed along her signature blonde hair, but not her tendency to showcase it. Maegan's hair was drawn into a tight, heavy coil at her nape, but the smooth cap of her head gleamed like white-gold prismfoils in the bright lights of the room.

An attractive woman, but trouble. Maegan Shale had never fully subscribed to Mariltar doctrine. She had too much of her mother's stubbornness and rebelliousness in her. As he watched her visible struggle to control herself, he wondered disionately if, this time, she would conform. She had so much more to lose.

"Yes, sir." She tilted her head, and he noticed, for the first time, the dark shadows under her eyes. "I apologize. What can I do for you?"

Very good. The rebel had learned to show superficial conformity, at least. He nodded an acknowledgment. "There are several issues I wish to discuss. Pallas Seven has experienced a sudden, extraordinary increase in traffic lately. There seems to be no single explanation and there are concerns at some levels. I'd like your thoughts. And before you send me to the Pallas Seven counselor, you should know I'm requesting information from all the Pallas asteroids. This impacts all of you."

Her eyes flickered. Her body lost its rigid stiffness. She waited. Interesting.

"I'd also like your report on the state of the economy here."

"We file every rotation with the--"

"Those are numbers. I want the story behind the numbers."

Her lips tightened. Her hand clenched and unclenched in the folds of her long skirt. She was beginning to realize this was not going to be a short meeting. He was beginning to realize that her reluctance to meet might truly stem from an overbooked schedule. Why would the authority in paradise, the smallest of the asteroids in the system, be so pressed for time?

Her slenderness bordered on painful thinness. The bones in her wrists were prominent. The long-skirted dress she wore might once have been form fitting but hung from her shoulders in wilted folds.

"The sooner we get started, the sooner we can be done," he said more gently, and gestured to the guest seating arrangement behind him.

She balked just long enough to convey irritation, then glided past him, head held high.

Across the room, the door opened and her assistant entered, server bot in tow.

"Ah, excellent timing, the food is here." He stood to the side, his attention seemingly focused on the food, as Coryon fussed with laying it out. His interest wasn't all feigned. Food was one of his ions. He took great pleasure in the culinary experiences afforded by varied cultures of the Crestar System and made it a point to seek out unique dining opportunities when he could. He had yet to partake of Pallas Four's cuisine, which had a galaxy-wide reputation.

The subtle interplay between the two women interested him more than the food. Coryon, a native of Pallas Four, was nervous. Her skin was flushed a dark olive and shone with a fine mist of perspiration. She kept darting glances at Maegan who, with the exception of a single slight jerk of her head, stood still and silent.

His intrusion here today had caused a major difficulty.

Coryon completed the food service by placing a small covered bowl near Maegan. She stepped back, her gaze lowered. A bead of moisture traced a glistening path down her cheek.

"Thank you, Coryon," Maegan said with more warmth than he had heard yet. "I'll be with Governor Mariltar for a while. Please reschedule my remaining appointments with the exception of the last one."

"But the plans for--"

"You and Makiee can work them out together. I have every confidence in you."

Coryon, it was clear, didn't have that much confidence in herself. Her young face twisted in a grimace of horror. "Perhaps we should--"

"No," Maegan snapped. Her tone gentled. "No, there's no need. You've both done this before. You don't need me."

"Yes, ma'am." Coryon shot a glance at Alerik that contained a hint of resentment. Her shoulders straightened. She stepped back. "Please let me know if you need anything else."

He waited until she was gone. "She's young. I clearly seem to be causing some difficulty with your plans for the day."

"She has more rotations than I do," Maegan said. She waited by the table, hands linked together at her waist, a polite hostess. "Pallas natives have a longer life expectancy which can mean a delayed maturity factor. She's a good assistant, just inexperienced. And no, you're not causing any difficulty with our plans. It will be good for her to work on the project without my supervision."

"Sit, please." Alerik gestured. He didn't completely buy into her explanation. Maegan posed a conundrum and he recognized the sensation that uncoiled in his belly with relish. She was a complex puzzle to be unraveled.

Along with the far greater and more serious challenge of the job he had been

sent here to accomplish.

"Please," he said, and gestured again, this time at the half dozen dishes set before them. "Let's eat first. Business afterwards."

She leaned forward and picked up the small covered bowl. "No, thank you," she said too politely. "I don't eat food." She opened the bowl to reveal nutro tablets.

The heady anticipation of experiencing a new cuisine evaporated with the suddenness of a samlwind. She had taken the conundrum factor to yet a higher notch. He didn't understand how anyone could forgo the pleasure of eating in favor of the tasteless tablets, which were really designed as emergency food supplies. No wonder she was so skinny. He added another goal to a long list.

Toward the end of his own meal, which somehow wasn't as enjoyable when his dining partner wasn't sharing the experience, he dropped two firestingers into the mostly one-sided conversation. "We're going to be conducting long overdue audits of all corporations in the Grogon System. We'll expect your complete cooperation, of course. And..." He waited.

She didn't like that. She had tensed up like a craw again. She would like his next agenda item even less. "It's time to discuss your hereditary term of service on my security team."

Chapter 2

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising Near the Grogon Asteroid Belt

Blazing Starpits! And damn, damn, damn--to use her Earth mother's favorite expletive.

Where had she picked them up and who were they? She was certain the two vessels were following her. She couldn't afford to be challenged this close to the Grogon cluster, especially since she hadn't filed a flight plan. The old governor would have looked in the other direction. The new governor would have her incarcerated and interrogated.

Despite her predicament, she chuckled out loud in sour amusement. That would solve one of her problems. Her eligibility to serve a hereditary term on Alerik Mariltar's security team would be wiped into oblivion.

Maegan studied the nav display. They were drawing inexorably closer. It wouldn't be long before they were within standard hailing distance. She had to lose them before then.

This trip was the result of a frantic request for immediate action. Most of such requests were urgent, but didn't usually give her so little time to prepare. Alerik Mariltar's intrusion today had forced her to rely on others. She had made the

collection. She had made the drop-off. She just had to get home. Luckily, she had identified the possible new safe route through the moon cluster. She had to shake her pursuers there.

The two ships behind her were beginning to separate. Starpits! Ambush tactics. She had to do this now. The moon cluster was close enough. She took a deep breath and hoped the best nav charts credits could buy would substitute for her less than adequate preparation.

"All right, Lady Melia, let's see if your old body hangs together on this one." She set the nav course directly for the moon cluster and jammed the thruster control forward. The Lady Melia's brand new engines responded instantly and hurtled her ancient body toward the nearest moon. Maegan's fingers danced over the nav chart making some fine adjustments to the course. They would take the ship far closer to the moon than most pilots had balls for.

ed it!

She made her next adjustment and checked for company. Sliek! Still there. Their speed had increased as well. Who were they?

The bedring creatures dancing in her stomach were a strong indication her growing suspicion was on target. She zipped around the next moon. Still there. It was like swatting at two annoying insects. Stronger tactics were called for. She had trained as a fighter pilot with the best.

These were the best--without a doubt.

Two of Alerik Mariltar's team.

She ground her teeth and tried to ignore the welling of hot anger as she made her next adjustments. Blazing starpits! She braced herself. Her stomach never did well on this maneuver. Good thing she didn't have anything in it.

The Lady Melia plunged--down, down, down--then caught herself and began a steep upward climb. Maegan's stomach roiled before settling. Thank Sortor for nutro tablets. She checked the chart.

One was still with her. She had one more chance. She zipped around the far side of the next to last moon and hit her ballast eject. On the nav chart, a film spread out and rolled in a wave over the one remaining vessel.

"And best of luck to you," she muttered. The magna cloud would scramble the pursuing vessel's nav equipment, making further pursuit virtually impossible. She had never had to use the tactic before. It was an expensive last resort. Alerik Mariltar had just doubled the chits against him.

She made a last set of adjustments and headed for home.

* * * *

"Balls of forged steel," Eduardo Corenna said gloomily. "Never seen anything like it."

Nathan Drakal, slumped in the chair beside him, shot back, "You didn't get caught in that magna cloud. I had to be towed to dock. Towed! And I'm grounded until my instruments are recalibrated."

"Been telling you for rotations to get that done." Corenna sounded smug. "Might improve your longevity with the ladies."

"Thereby leaving more for your pathetic a--"

"Gentlemen!" Sharm Foster, their commanding officer, looked up from his perusal of the official report. His gaze ed over Alerik with barely a flicker, where he stood unnoticed behind the two pilots. "And so the mighty are felled. One service class vessel, gentlemen? Of indeterminate age? And he kicked your asses."

"Magna cloud, engines powerful enough to perform fighter class maneuvers--the vessel must have been reinforced to withstand the pressure, yet left to look like a mere transporter. Why is that, I wonder? Stand down, boys." Alerik waved his hand as Corenna and Drakal leapt to attention. He strolled across the room and dropped his hand-held vid screen on the wide table in front of Sharm. "There are credits here, gentlemen, a lot of them. Magna is expensive and hard to obtain, not to mention being a controlled substance. And we have an unrecorded flight plan through the Grogon cluster."

Commander Foster nodded. "Unfortunately, sir, we have a lot of those. The previous governor didn't enforce Coalition regs."

Alerik placed his hands on the table and leaned forward to fix his gaze on the two fighter pilots. They were two of the youngest of his team, but the best at what they did--arrogant, fearless, supremely confident. Now they squirmed in their seats and shot each other uncertain looks.

"She out-maneuvered you, boys. Hard to believe. Hard to believe that anyone can out-maneuver a pilot trained by the Seventh Fleet."

More looks, this time of comical horror. "She, sir?"

Alerik shrugged. "It's possible, isn't it?" He didn't know why he'd attached a female gender to the unknown pilot.

"Of course, sir," Corenna hastened to agree but, as Alerik turned away, he saw the skeptical grimace and head shake Corenna directed at Drakal.

"That's all for now, gentlemen," he said. "You'll receive new assignments later today."

"Your thoughts?" Sharm demanded as soon as the door closed behind the pilots.

Alerik stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. "That the Grogon Asteroid Belt shields a host of unlawful activities behind a façade of ordinary commerce. There's a bigger web of conspiracy, graft and intrigue here than we first were led to believe, and this recent incident only reinforces my opinion. That vessel landed on one of the Pallas asteroids."

Sharm barked out a laugh. "But according to Governor Meelor, nothing ever happens here."

"Governor Meelor was a puppet of the large corporations. The welcome gifts I received from each corporate chief were only a fraction of what they're prepared to offer. Most made implications that came dangerously close to bribery."

"With the exception of Janas Corporation."

"With the exception of Janas Corporation," Alerik agreed. He gave a humorless grin. "Janas begrudged even the nans they were forced to give me. Gifts and bribery were the last things on Maegan Shale's mind."

Sharm shook his dark head and rose to his feet. He was tall and elegantly slender, without Alerik's muscled bulk. His facial features were perfectly sculpted, almost feminine in their beauty. But his looks were deceiving. Without hesitation, Alerik would choose Sharm to guard his back over anyone else in hand-to-hand combat. "Would have liked to have been there with you on that one for the entertainment factor alone. Maegan was such a fireball at the academy, constantly pushing at boundaries and challenging convention. Half the men in her class were in love with her. The other half was jealous of her. And the women always seemed exasperated with her."

"And her piloting skills?"

Headed for the refreshment bar, Sharm jerked to a halt. "Balls of Sortor," he

swore. He pivoted to face Alerik and smoothed his already perfect hair. "She was exceptional. Near the top of her class. I had her for one rotation. She quite possibly would have been top of her class if she hadn't constantly resisted following orders."

"She dropped out," Alerik said.

On the heels of his quiet comment, realization dawned on Sharm's face. "She did, didn't she? I now. You don't think she's mixed up in any of this, do you?"

Alerik propped himself on the edge of the table and picked up a saga ball. He began to toss it idly from hand to hand. "We don't know what the extent of 'this' is yet, but for her parents' sake, I hope not."

"What a mess that would be." Sharm pulled two bottles of Mariltar blue ale from the cabinet.

More of a mess than Sharm could possibly know. Alerik accepted a bottle of ale and, once again, debated sharing a piece of information with the man who had had his back since they had met in pilot training at the academy. Not yet. Sharm would have to know soon and Sharm, being ever the conformist, would without a doubt have vociferous objections.

"Why did she drop out?"

"The transcripts don't give a reason, but her father says she left to come to Pallas Four to work with her uncle in Janas Corporation."

"Where's the uncle now?"

"Off on an extended tour of the Voton Galaxy, leaving his niece in charge." Alerik tipped the bottle back and took a long swallow of ale. It slid down his throat, smooth, familiar. He waited for the kick. "I want you to assign Corenna and Drakal to Pallas Four."

Sharm's brows shot up. "Yes?"

"Specifically to watch Maegan Shale. I want to know her every movement when she's not inside Janas Corporation."

"You think she was that pilot?"

"Maybe. Tell that to Corenna and Drakal. It'll give them some incentive. Nothing like a score to settle to improve attention to detail."

Sharm set his bottle down. "She's also an attractive woman, Alerik, and you know Corenna and Drakal. They should be made aware she's a hereditary candidate for your team, otherwise she'll pose a challenge for them in another way as well."

He was counting on it. "No, I don't want them to have that information yet. My Soron slice axe to your Taragon pike she'll squash them anyway." In a twisted sort of way, he was counting on that too.

* * * *

Maegan rubbed her eyes. This wasn't working. Numbers, symbols and letters were all running together. She was too tired. She had to take a break.

She closed off the vid screen and pushed herself to her feet, then had to hang on to the table edge as a familiar attack of dizziness seized her. When the world was normal again, she headed for the private room attached to her office. As she pulled off her dress tunic and reached for a pale green exercise suit, she reflected on the double bookkeeping system that Janas Corporation maintained. Its architect, Morgon Trion, her uncle, had set up a seemingly foolproof arrangement.

She sincerely hoped it was. So far, she hadn't been able to find a flaw, but she still had several more files to examine before she was satisfied. The deadline for turning the corporation's private financial records over to the audit committee was four days away.

Curse Alerik Mariltar!

Curse him for being appointed governor of Grogon and for his high and mighty rule-of-law-or-nothing policy.

The Coalition of the nine primary nations of the Crestar System had crafted an inflexible, stifling legal structure. Governor Meelor had his own loose way of interpreting it. Governor Mariltar wouldn't interpret it at all. He'd follow each directive with unshakeable tunnel vision.

Aargh! She was giving herself a headache.

She slipped her feet into padded exercise slippers and checked to make sure her hair was secure in its tight knot. Then she headed out of her office and down the stairs that would take her past Coryon's work station.

Coryon was on a vid conference, so she merely waved and pointed in the general direction of the beach. Her assistant widened her eyes and pretended to faint across her console. There was no reaction from the other participants on screen. Coryon must have placed herself on privacy screen. She was learning.

Maegan chuckled and stepped into the express lift tube to the outside entrance of the complex. She rarely used it, preferring instead to walk through the halls of the corporation to greet the people her uncle had gathered from across the galaxy to build the next generation of data communication technology. They were a young crew for the most part, many her own age and younger. In this one tiny slice of the universe, they represented not only a triumph of cultural integration, but of intellectual cooperation and knowledge sharing. For the first time in recent history, the technical skills and technology infrastructure of the multiple worlds of the Crestar System were being combined. Trials had already proven the prototypes developed thus far vastly superior to anything in existence.

She stepped outside and turned up her face to the warmth of Pallas Four's second sun. Tension immediately began to melt away. She didn't do this enough. Didn't have time to do this. She did some cursory stretching, before she took off on a

slow jog down a path cushioned with grebiron shells and lined with thick vegetation.

She ed a calithorn shrub, whose leaves today were blood crimson spotted with gold. The path was deserted, typical for the area. The tourists all congregated at the lower end of the city where the entertainment clubs did a booming business.

The sea was audible now, a soft splash of thick liquid on a spongy shell shore. Pallas Four was almost entirely covered with a gel sea. The only land was the floating island upon which the city was built.

She hit the beach at a fast jog. It was hot today, hotter than she expected. Like the path, the beach was deserted. Halfway to the point where she usually turned around, she realized that despite her best intentions her thoughts had locked onto her biggest problem again.

Alerik Mariltar. What vindictive fate had brought him into her universe again? Two rotations older than she, he had stormed in and out of her childhood and adolescence, too busy becoming an anointed heir of the Mariltar Nation to pay much attention to the rebellious daughter of his father's right hand man. Too busy to notice that when she hit puberty, she had a searingly painful crush on him.

One day he had had the gall to chastise her publicly for some infraction long forgotten under the lingering weight of the public humiliation. Her crush was instantly erased and, to her father's dismay and her mother's acceptance, if not encouragement, her rebellious nature became more closely focused on all that she perceived to be wrong with rigid Mariltar doctrine.

She had avoided him entirely at the academy, which wasn't hard, as they'd only shared one rotation there before he had moved on from his stint as one of the most sought after instructors to enter the next phase of his heir training. But the boy of her memory had become a man. And what a man! A woman's fantasies come to life. Not that she cared. Arrogance and lust for power didn't do a thing for her. Her crush had long since vanished.

Now, as Counselor of Pallas Four, she had to report to him. Even worse, it seemed he might invoke his right to make her serve her hereditary term on his security team .

By all the gods of the Mariltar Nation, she would not! Her father had made a lifetime commitment to Alerik's father. She wouldn't give even a nan to the son. There had to be plenty of ways out of this.

She slowed to catch her breath. Anger had lent wings to her feet. Obviously rebellion wasn't enough. Something much more drastic--something that wouldn't get her incarcerated--was in order.

"Magnificent day, isn't it?" A half-naked man jogged by her. Black hair, tight ass, muscled back, young.

"No better for a vigorous run, yes?" Another half-naked man jogged by on the other side. Medium brown hair, tight ass, muscled back, young.

Blazing starpits! Where had they come from?

They turned simultaneously and began jogging backwards in front of her. Wonderful. Showoffs! Their skin-tight exercise shorts left little to the imagination.

They flashed identical white smiles. "Maegan Shale?" the black-haired one inquired.

"You obviously know, so why ask?" She had no interest in playing ritual mating preliminaries. Two nans left to her turnaround.

"Had to check," Brown-hair responded. "It's our job to be accurate."

Not a casual pick up then. In hand-to-hand combat, Maegan could hold her own and these men clearly weren't hiding weapons anywhere. Still, signals were going off like crazy in her head. The turnaround, a favorite spot, could wait for another day. She abruptly reversed course. "That's nice." She waved her hand high in the air. "Goodbye."

They appeared one on either side of her almost instantly. Neither one was panting yet.

"Don't leave so soon," Brown-hair pleaded.

"We just want to get to know you," Black-hair chimed in.

Blazing starpits! "Sorry, boys." She tried not to gasp for air. She was so out of shape. "I don't form relationships in the middle of exercising. It's not healthy. Be good and leave me alone."

"As you wish, lady," Black-hair said, too obediently. They both dropped back.

Too easy. Warning signals were still firing in her head. What was going on here? They had fallen back to a respectful distance. She could see them with her peripheral vision when she turned her head slightly. They weren't talking. They just had their attention fixed on her as they loped along effortlessly. There was no way she could outrun them. In top shape, maybe, but exercise had gone the way of sleep lately.

Then it hit her. Sliek! She stopped and whirled to face them. "Alerik Mariltar sent you. Why?"

They halted in front of her, their breathing barely elevated, two young, hard male bodies about whom any woman should have at least a lustful thought or two. She didn't even get a twinge. What was wrong with her?

Brown-hair flashed his dazzling smile, and raised his hand in traditional Mariltar greeting. "Drakal, ma'am. Nathan Drakal." He gestured to his companion, who imitated the greeting. "He's Corenna. Eduardo. Our orders are to provide you with protection."

It was ludicrous. Maegan fought a rush of too familiar hot anger. "Protection?

Against what?" She planted her fists on her hips. "Are you sure the directive didn't go more like this? 'Go spy on Counselor Shale. I want to make sure she's as clean as a ganbird before she so much as sets foot on my team.' Am I right?"

They didn't even blink. Smiles still firmly in place, they stared back at her.

"Actually, ma'am," Black-hair said, "we have concerns about the increased traffic on Pallas Seven, some of which is making its way over here. The counselor on Pallas Seven has received some nasty threats. The governor is just taking precautions."

News to her. And even if it were true, it was a leap to think that Pallas Seven's problems would spill over to Pallas Four. Everyone knew the gambling on Pallas Seven was way out of control. The legal dens were greatly outnumbered by unlicensed establishments. Grossly exaggerated rumors abounded. She had heard recent talk of illegal blood matches. She had even heard it suggested a death match between humans had taken place. Pallas Four was far removed from all that.

"Please thank the governor for his concern and generous gesture, but inform him that Janas Corporation provides me with all the security I need." Or would, if she allowed it.

"Yes, ma'am." No change of expression. No movement. They were the quintessential Mariltar warriors: unyielding, steadfast, resolute in following orders.

The sun beat down on her, making her head swim with a sudden brief attack of

dizziness. The only way she was going to get rid of Alerik's spies was to go to the source. And wasn't that going to be fun?

"All right. I'm going to finish my run now. And then I'm going to go back to Janas Corporation and have a conversation with Governor Mariltar."

She waved at the rippling gel sea on one side and the thick jungle-like vegetation steps away at the edge of the beach. Its primitive beauty hid deadly thorns, whip vines that could maim and poisonous secretions. Paradise came with a price. No one in his right mind would conceal himself in the dense growth without consequence. "As you can see, no threats lurking around here. Feel free to disappear any time."

Neither one budged, of course.

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and shook her head, and then wished she hadn't, as a curtain of blackness briefly descended. She had to get out of the sun. She started off at a slow jog, trailed by two of the most highly trained warriors in the Crestar System.

Chapter 3

Margaine Confluence/Fourth Rising Pallas Five

The day was three-quarters gone and Grogon's most unique phenomenon, its small moon-sun, was on its fourth rising, when the vid console at the workstation in the governor's office buzzed with an alert of an incoming message.

"Do you want to respond to that?" Sharm said.

Alerik could see the caller's ID code. A twinge of anticipation shot through his belly straight to his groin. "No." He turned back to the two men seated before him. "It's not important. Continue."

Captain Rectar Stilling said, "Well, sir, we have the lower route into the Pallas Seven docks covered. Just in three cycles we've seen a marked drop in traffic. The upper route is more difficult but--"

The buzzer on the console went crazy and began to flash. Sharm raised his brows at Alerik. He shrugged. The blasted technology should have recorded a message by now. "Do you need more manpower?" he asked Stilling.

"Don't believe so, sir. The--"

Alerik's personal comm began to vibrate. Simultaneously, the room's amplifier system began to buzz and flash. He sprang to his feet. "Balls of Sortor! How did she do that?"

Sharm and Stilling were also on their feet.

"Who?" demanded Sharm.

"Maegan Shale," Alerik said grimly. He strode to the vid console and punched the release to shut down the comm system. Nothing happened.

"Maegan Shale? The Chief Executive of Janas Corporation? Radically advanced communication interface technology?" Sharm sounded far too amused.

"What the sliek does that mean? And how by Sagar's Crystals do you know that?" Alerik punched futilely at the release again. He didn't have a clue what Janas did. Communication interface technology?

"Did some research."

"This is an invasion of privacy!" Alerik slammed his hand down on the console.

Sharm picked up his vid screen. "Looks like you have a bit of a crisis to deal with. I'll finish debriefing Captain Stilling in my office." Behind Stilling's back on the way to the door, he dared to waggle his brows at Alerik and flash three fingers at him.

In his office, with three different comm sources buzzing and flashing around him, Alerik waited a full nan, allowing the anticipation to build. Then he switched the vid comm to receive, eliminating all noise and flash instantly. "Counselor Shale."

"Governor Mariltar. I see you are available after all."

What the sliek was she wearing? Something pale green that looked like it had been painted on her. Combined with the crown of her tightly knotted blonde hair, she looked...lickable. Great Sagar! He was glad the console shielded him.

"You and I need to have a conversation, Maegan, about polite communication. I'm in the middle of a meeting. What do you want?"

She broke eye and turned away slightly. The green suit lovingly embraced the sweep of her back to the fan of her ass. She was too thin, but it was nothing a few good meals couldn't fix. "Call off your spies, Governor."

"Spies? I prefer to call them bodyguards. They're there for your protection."

"I don't need protection and I don't appreciate being spied on." She seemed to be

out of breath. Her face was flushed. Her breasts heaved under the thin skin of her clothing. He could see the tight bump of the nipple in profile to him. His groin twitched again.

"We disagree. Until the situation on Pallas Seven is under control, every counselor is being assigned temporary protection unless they already have a bodyguard."

"Which I do."

"No. You don't. Janas Corporation only provides security within its premises."

"I'll extend it to outside."

"Sorry, not acceptable. I'll expect your cooperation. Do let Corenna and Drakal know of any plans outside of work and home."

Every muscle in her face was rigid. Her eyes were narrowed into slits. The flush had faded to a paleness that alarmed him. "This is an outrageous invasion of privacy. I will not accept it."

Time to tighten the clamps. "You don't have to accept it. You just have to follow orders, which I realize is hard for you to do. But, Maegan, know this. I will not tolerate noncompliance."

Her eyes widened and flashed green fire. Her nostrils flared.

"And on the subject of invasion of privacy, don't ever use today's tactic to communicate with me again or I'll paralyze Janas Corporation with a comprehensive inspection in addition to the financial audit. Speaking of which, you are ready to turn over your records, aren't you?"

Her body swayed. She reached out to clench her hands around the edge of the console. "You arrogant batriel! I came here to get away from--"

"You're not well," he said sharply as her sleek blonde head lowered and she bent forward panting. "Sit! Get someone to help--"

She slid from view.

"Sliek!" He punched at the comm link.

"Governor?" Coryon's startled face appeared in a view side-by-side to the empty screen of Maegan's office.

"See to Counselor Shale. She's collapsed in her office."

"Yes, sir."

It was only an instant before the face of Maegan's assistant filled the empty screen. He saw the shock, saw her bend. And in the time it took for her to examine Maegan, his head filled with questions. He didn't really think that any of the Pallas counselors, with the exception of Counselor Forman on Pallas Seven, were in harm's way, but the threats had held some ambiguity. What if they had misinterpreted them? What if someone had gotten to Maegan?

Coryon stood up. "I believe she just fainted, sir." She leaned over the vid console and pressed something. "I'm calling for a med team. She doesn't nourish herself properly and she was out exercising in the heat today."

"Thank you." Coryon seemed calm enough. His heart was still racing in his chest. "Coryon?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I've assigned a security team to her. Corenna and Drakal. I believe she met them today. See that she cooperates with them, will you?"

Interesting. Coryon's young face reflected of all things dismay before her professional mask slid into place. "Y-yes, sir."

He waited with her for the med team. Maegan was coming to by the time they placed her into the med hoverbot and, true to form, began to vocalize her objections as soon as she realized what was happening.

"Make sure she follows orders," he instructed the med officer. "And provide me with a report as soon as you can."

This produced more muffled, angry noises from inside the hoverbot. Alerik managed to stop himself just in time from wishing the med team good fortune with their newest difficult patient.

He closed off the vid link to Maegan's office and opened an audio link that had been flashing for some time. "Yes?"

"Drakal and Corenna, sir. We made ."

"So I understand. She's on her way to the med facility as we speak."

"Sir?"

"She collapsed in her office in the middle of voicing her objections to your services. Heat exhaustion, I understand."

"She was out running on the beach, sir. Blasted hot, it was."

"Just make sure you have your perimeters, spics and cams set up. She's going to try every possible trick to evade you."

"Yes, sir. Sir?"

"Yes?"

"She seemed to think we were there to spy on her because she's a candidate for your team?"

Unseen by his subordinates, Alerik grimaced and shook his head. Trust Maegan to reveal something he didn't necessarily want to be public knowledge. Too late for that now. "Counselor Shale is Commander Trion's daughter. She's a hereditary candidate to serve a term on my team."

"She's off limits then?"

Disappointment laced Drakal's voice and Alerik didn't pretend to misunderstand. He was guilty for not offering full disclosure to begin with. "You know the rules."

"Yes, sir."

Chapter 4

Margaine Confluence:/Sixth Rising Pallas Four

"How many?"

"Four."

"Where?"

"Andreelin."

Not so far then. Still, she was exhausted, and there was no option to refuse. She had to go. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

She closed off the transmission and dropped her head into her hands. Starpits, she was tired. Earlier that day, the med team had treated her and released her with the onishment to go home and rest. She had gone back to Janas Corporation instead to finish her review of the report going to Governor Mariltar the next day.

Then she had come home and gone to bed and been awakened too soon a short while later by yet another urgent request. There were too many of them lately. Something was happening. It also worried her that she hadn't heard from Morgon in a while.

She pushed herself off the gel mattress and, in the half-light coming through the wide plexiwalls, dressed quickly. Pallas Four never experienced total darkness because of its moon-sun and she didn't want to turn on the lumens. She didn't know yet what kind of surveillance she had been placed under, but didn't doubt she was being closely monitored.

Andreelin, at least, was familiar to her, and on a little used route on the back side of the Grogon Belt. There was no reason for it to be patrolled. Once she was off the dock, she should be clear. But therein lay her challenge. She had to get off Pallas Four undetected.

The first part was easy. Governor Mariltar's spies couldn't possibly know about the tube tunnels leading from Morgon's habitat to the dock, the beach and Janas Corporation. Morgon had commissioned the tunnels rotations ago when he had first arrived on Pallas Four and the floating island was nothing more than a beach destination for a few seasoned travelers in search of solitude. In the heart of the tunnel network lay a complete self-contained, never-used living unit. Morgon, eccentric, lovable Morgon, who had ed his rebel gene onto his niece, had included vanishing as part of his master plan.

The problem was he had vanished without informing her, which wasn't part of the master plan.

In the bathing room, she slid aside a false wall, stepped onto a tube pad and lay down. As the wall closed behind her, the lumens in the tunnel came on

automatically. She touched the control that would send the pad and her to the dock.

She hated this part. She was a trained fighter pilot, used to zero gravity and tremendous negative pressures, but Morgon had built the tunnel with velocity in mind. There was something unnatural about lying on a thin pad, with no protection whatsoever, and being sped through a narrow tube so fast that all she could do was hold on, grit her teeth and count the nans until it was over.

The night air was cooler than usual when she stepped out of the tunnel. Not a good sign. It meant the saturated wilding winds were moving in, which would make the return trip difficult.

The Lady Melia rode in isolated glory at the elevated smart dock built to blend in with the surrounding jungle. The dock was another of Morgon's amazing inventions, which had yet to be duplicated anywhere else.

She stood for a moment, instinctively cautious, but there was nothing to indicate the camouflaged dock had been breached. She stepped forward.

A shrill scream split the night air.

Batriel!

Blazing starpits, it was close. Goose bumps skittered across her skin and the hair on her nape stood at attention. Two steps to the lift pad, but she didn't know

where the creature was. It could even be in the docking structure. With minimal movement, she palmed the slender tube of her laserray and tilted her head.

Nothing. She could see nothing. The batriel was unpredictable, an ambusher, a carrion eater. It would often attack and maim, then leave its victim to suffer agonies before returning to feed.

She made it to the lift pad, which at least protected her back, and was halfway through the ascent when a whirring rush of air and foul smell alerted her. She fired blindly. The creature's scream deafened her. Something large brushed against the dock, causing the lift pad to stall momentarily. She stumbled. The stench clogged her nostrils and she gagged. Then it was gone.

She staggered into the Lady Melia, locked down the hatch and grabbed an oxygen pack from emergency supplies. The cramp attacked her lungs and doubled her over as she shoved the pack over her nose then, mercifully, it eased as pure, sweet air rushed to drive out the contamination.

A warm wetness slid down her arm. Starpits! She'd been tagged. Her suit was split open across her bicep and was already saturated. She reached into the emergency supplies again. All she could do for now was wrap a self-sealing bandage over the wound. Proper care would have to wait. At least she felt no pain.

While she'd been busy with the aftermath of the attack, the smart dock had elevated the Lady Melia above the jungle canopy. Now a fast warning bleep sounded. Launch was imminent. She hurried to strap herself in.

She made an uneventful collection on Andreelin and delivery to Lexis, but on the return trip, little orange balls began to mess with her vision. Between the wilding winds and her impaired vision, she would have ended up on top of the jungle canopy without the smart dock to grab the Lady Melia as she came in. It was all she could do to navigate the lift pad and tunnel. Just before she lost consciousness on the floor of the bathing chamber in her habitat, she tried desperately to if she had sealed off the tunnel.

* * * *

She opened her eyes to Alerik Mariltar's stern features looming over her.

"Oh, no. Starpit brain hallos! My worst nightmare."

It was too much, of course, to hope for an hallucination.

The real man bared his teeth. "Believe me, a starpit is an entertainment club compared to me. But I do agree that I could be your worst nightmare."

He seemed to be in the grip of a strong emotion. A muscle jumped in his cheek. His eyes and temple mark were a dark, glowering sapphire.

She forced her gaze away and studied the unfamiliar room. It was windowless, stark and small. Med monitors lined the wall on one side of the sleeping platform on which she lay. A med facility, no doubt, but not Pallas Four's unless it had undergone some major remodeling.

She tried to lift herself up on her elbows and found she couldn't. Something held her arms and legs immobile. She also became acutely aware that, under the thin flex sheet that covered her, she was naked. And Alerik Mariltar stood there beside her, arms folded, and watched her with that simmering sapphire gaze.

As far as she could see, she had two choices. She took the one that was bound to irritate him the most, and simply closed her eyes.

"Bah! Won't work," he ground out. "I'm not leaving. If you want answers, you have to talk to me."

"I can wait for the med specialist."

Warm breath bearing the faint scent of sweet tiug leaf fanned across her face. He must have moved, must be leaning right over her. Her stomach flipped. She forced herself not to look.

"Problem is, everyone has been instructed not to provide answers."

She should have seen that one coming. She slit her eyes open. His face filled her vision. His eyes had lost their dark glower, and were a softer hypnotic blue, yet somehow infinitely more dangerous. In the glowing sapphire depths was a message she didn't dare, even for one nanonan, try to interpret.

"You can't do that," she forced out. Her throat was dry and achy. She needed a

drink of something.

His lips curved upward. Surprise sent alarming tingles speeding through her veins. He had tiny dimples--two of them--in his chin when he smiled.

"Oh, but I can," he said. "I'm the governor, after all." Then as if he'd read her mind, he reached above her to the med and retrieved a small gel pouch. He brought it to her mouth and gently teased her bottom lip. His gaze flickered, moved from her mouth to her eyes, down her nose, across her cheeks. Under the thin sheet, she was suddenly extraordinarily hot.

"Open," he commanded softly.

She didn't even realize she'd obeyed until a life-giving fluid bathed the parched tissues of her mouth.

The dimples in Alerik's chin deepened. His eyes narrowed, shielding their expression. It was a relief. There was something about those hypnotic depths that made her fearful she would simply give in to whatever he wanted.

"I have an idea," he said. "Let's trade information."

"Like what?" she demanded, instantly suspicious. She wasn't in the best of shape to deal with Alerik Mariltar.

"Trade information" was undoubtedly a euphemism for interrogation. Her mind felt sharp enough but every time he bored that blue gaze into her, it was like a blanket smothered all her synapses and snuffed out coherent thought. "Did you drug me?"

His eyebrows flew up. "You have such an odd opinion of me."

"You have no idea," she muttered. She shifted her bottom and found the med platform adjusted with her. She still couldn't move her arms and legs and her helplessness was beginning to really aggravate her.

"Have you talked with your parents lately?"

"No." What did that have to do with anything? Except layer on guilt.

"Have you heard of the Match Key?"

"Is this an interrogation? Because if so, by law, there needs to be an arbitrator--"

"If you feel a need to confess, we can open up a vid screen."

She definitely was in no shape to deal with him. But she took comfort from the fact that the muscle in his cheek was going crazy again and his eyes had narrowed to thin, gleaming slits.

"My conscience is as clear as a mapfly's wing," she said blithely.

"We'll deal with your conscience in good time. Answer the question."

She couldn't what he'd asked. "Is that a threat? Because, if so, an arbit--"

For such a large man, he moved fast, invading her personal space. He planted large fists on either side of her shoulders and, Sortor save her, there was that hypnotic blue gaze again boring into her. Her stomach came alive with lots of little bedring creatures flipping and jumping and spinning.

"When you were younger," he said softly, as his gaze bored ever deeper, "I ired your spirit, your courage to challenge. What others saw as rebelliousness and anti-establishment, I saw--sometimes, not always--as the epitome of a necessary and healthy evolution for a nation struggling to integrate with others in a unified galaxy. Did you know that the academy is using your thesis, the one on education, to experiment with mixed classes at the very youngest levels? That's a huge departure from conventional thinking."

Her stupid brain couldn't focus on anything but the word "ired". Alerik Mariltar ired her? He'd noticed her enough to ire her?

He shoved his face even closer. The faint scent of tiug leaf again teased her nostrils. "That doesn't mean I didn't think you'd benefit from a good oldfashioned discipline session." He leaned back. "Several, in fact."

"You are threatening me," she croaked. It was all she could think of to say. "I demand an arbitrator."

"You haven't answered the question."

"I don't the question."

"Do you know what the Match Key is?"

She did. She wasn't about to it it. "What happens when I answer you? Do you leave me alone?"

Alerik narrowed his eyes, and propped himself on one fist. He flexed his other hand above her face. "Discipline. Can take so many forms. Wonder what would be the most effect--"

"I don't feel well." It was a cowardly move, but the heat under the thin cover was unbearable.

He replaced his hand at her shoulder, which brought him a hand's breadth away from her face again. He ignored her lie.

"You don't know, do you? But true to nature, you won't it it. The Match

Key," he said with too much relish, "is one of those ancient Mariltar institutions you really despise."

His eyes were wide open, sucking her into their hypnotic depths. His mouth curved in a smile she instantly mistrusted.

"From time to time, under certain circumstances, the Match Key is used to select a lifemate. Your name came up."

"For what?" The bedring creatures were going crazy in her stomach. She really was beginning to feel nauseous. Maybe this was just a bad dream and she'd wake up soon in her own bed safe and sound without even a memory of this madness.

"For whom, would be the correct question."

Blazing starpits, he couldn't be serious and she had had enough. "Listen and listen carefully, Governor. When I take a life partner, it will be by my choice. No one or no thing, hallowed ancient custom or not, is going to dictate my mate. Now do be a good boy and run along. Please. I have an ache in my head." Not to mention other parts. Her whole body was beginning to feel like someone had taken her and whacked her against the wall.

"Don't you have any curiosity about with whom you've been matched?"

"No, not at all." She squinted, trying to block out the hypnotic call of his eyes. She truly was developing a bad headache. "Because it doesn't mean a thing.

Anyway, it's probably some stuffy bureaucrat in the gov--"

Heat exploded in her body followed by chills that chased from her scalp to her toes and raised goose bumps as they went. Even her eyebrows felt like they stood straight up.

"Blazing starpits!" she whispered.

"Language," he chided and shook his head. "So much work to do. So many misconceptions to overcome--stuffy bureaucrat, drug push--"

"Don't you think," she said through her teeth, "for a nan, not even a nanonan that I'm going to become your life partner. My parents will stand by me. There's no law in the galaxy that can enforce such a ludicrous custom."

Alerik straightened, relieving her of his immediate proximity and his hypnotic gaze. His face settled back into its stern lines. "The Match Key, when consulted, has chosen the mate of countless Mariltar heirs back through the old times."

"Then unconsult it," she snapped. "That's just pathetic. It's time to break with tradition."

His dimples showed briefly, but there was no humor in his expression. "Unfortunately, Green Eyes, the Match Key cannot be challenged. There is nothing you, nor I, nor your parents, nor mine can do about it. It's done. Now get some rest, because the next time we talk I intend to find out why and where you

were attacked by a batriel, and where it is you're hiding a star vessel. Wife."

Chapter 5

Margaine Confluence:/First Rising Pallas Five

Alerik strolled into the command center on Pallas Five feeling unably pleased with himself. Nothing about that conversation with Maegan had gone the way he'd planned. She had managed to aggravate nerves he thought had long been desensitized under the rigorous demands of leadership. But the exhilarating rush he had come to expect from encounters with her was still bubbling through his veins.

He had intended today to interrogate her about the mysterious star vessel, which had appeared twice in the air space over Pallas Four. They were positive it had launched from and landed on Pallas Four, but something had interfered with their trackers and they still hadn't located it.

Curious too that Maegan had been found unconscious in her habitat unit by Coryon at some point after the star vessel incident. He didn't believe in coincidence.

He had not intended to bring up the Match Key. It was a discussion meant for a private, intimate setting, not a healing room, and it was certainly far too early in the plan he had devised, which now was completely blasted to asteroid dust. So he'd listened to his own words with a sense of disbelief that he'd been driven to act so completely out of character.

How did she do that him? And do it so quickly?

Sharm intercepted him. "How is she?"

"Completely unaware how lucky she is to be alive, and too full of feistiness for her own good."

Sharm snorted. "Didn't get anything out of her, did you?"

Alerik stuck his hands in the pockets of his breeches, and eyed his friend. Time to confess and face the swift, merciless blade of Sharm's judgment. No one else had guts enough to tell him like it was.

"No, but I will. Right now she's busy digesting the concept of the Match Key."

"Balls of Sortor!" Sharm's too-pretty features became a rigid mask. "What have you--? Would you like to step into my office and explain that one?"

"Not really, but it's better than having you grind my bones in front of a room full of subordinates."

Levity was wasted. Grim-faced, Sharm stepped to one side and gestured politely. Feeling, not for the first time, as if their positions were reversed, Alerik

sauntered across the room, greeting of the security team on duty as he went. "Where are Drakal and Corenna?"

"Out sweeping the jungle of Pallas Four for signs of the slieking star vessel."

No doubt about it, Sharm was working himself up. He rarely cursed. "Didn't you tell them it won't do any good?"

"It's keeping them busy and will quite probably do more good than your visit with Maegan Shale apparently did."

"I'm not done with her yet," Alerik said mildly. In Sharm's office he dropped onto a hard chair.

"Privacy!" Sharm commanded as he followed Alerik in. The clear plexiwalls of the office space turned an opaque blue. He didn't wait for the door to completely close before he launched his attack. "You actually went and did it, didn't you? All those reasons not to, and yet you still consulted the slieking Match Key. Are you out of your tiny trill brain."

Alerik leaned back and stretched out his legs. Hard to tell how long this would take and Sharm had yet to address the worst of it. "My father used it to find the love of his life," he pointed out.

"Your father was under Coalition orders to find a mate from another race. The Great Conflict was over, and a united galaxy was being born. He had little

choice. You, on the other hand, do. Or you had. Balls of Sortor, Alerik, what were you thinking?"

"That it was time to take a mate?" he said, straight-faced. It was nothing less than the truth. And like everything else that influenced his life, the Match Key was a time-honored and time-tested ancient institution. No one would question the results. Trained to high office as he was, his life partner had to be an impeccable choice.

Which made the Match Key's selection so shocking, so spectacularly inappropriate for a Mariltar heir. And so very exhilarating.

The bonds that had tethered him to compliance all his life unraveled in the blink of an eye. In the relative quiet of Sharm's office, with his friend looking on in stern disapproval, he experienced a too-brief moment of heady, unfettered freedom. A realization had begun to slowly surface that a new, completely unexpected course for his life lay wide open to him.

"A mate? Since when? Have you been sniffing shlil dust? One day you have your choice of prime female companionship, without any pressure for commitment, I might add, and the next you decide you have to be bonded for life?"

"I think I felt an urge to create miniature Aleriks."

He watched with interest as Sharm's eyes popped, his face turned bright red, and his mouth worked soundlessly.

"And the Match Key is how you do it?" he finally spluttered. "If you had to have such a demented disconnect in your slieking synapses, you could at least have made your own decision. You could have had your choice. Any woman. Any unmated woman in the slieking galaxy."

"That's an exaggeration. There's at least one exception."

Still red-faced, Sharm screwed his pretty-boy features into what, for him, was a ferocious scowl. "Sagar's sacred crystals! I don't believe it. Did you rig the Match Key? Why would you do that?"

"Of course I didn't rig the Match Key. It's not possible." But looking back on it, he had probably quite unintentionally given a fair description of Maegan. Her face and behavior stuck in his mind more than any other. Not that it would have made any difference to the Match Key.

Sharm began to pace in a wide circle. He made one full rotation before he shot Alerik a grim look. "I don't even want to ask what Maegan Shale has to do with any of this, but this lasersting tearing at my gut tells me I already know."

Alerik relaxed and clamped his lips together to stop himself from grinning. A fool Sharm wasn't. He crossed one booted ankle over the other. "Interesting choice, isn't she?"

"Interesting is not the word I would use. Unsuitable? Yes," Sharm snapped. "She's not the right lifemate for you, Alerik. She's too...unpredictable, too

slieking unruly."

Cold, hard reason had no argument. With the exception, interestingly, of the Match Key, Maegan Shale was not anyone's definition of a perfect choice of a lifemate for a Mariltar heir. And maybe that was part of the attraction. From many, many rotations ago, he held a clear memory of a young Maegan, barely into puberty, jumping into an adult conversation to vociferously denounce the exploitation of bonded entertainment house workers. Not that he'd agreed with her position at the time. He'd just ired her conviction and envied her the freedom to express an uncommon point of view.

Sharm stopped pacing and leaned against the side of his workstation. He folded his arms and glowered. "Alerik, she's involved in something. You know she is."

"No doubt."

"So find a way to refute the Match Key results."

The thought had crossed his mind numerous times. Curious that he had never acted upon it. Shocking that Sharm would suggest it.

"I'm a little confused. Are you upset because I used the Match Key or are you upset about the results?"

"What difference does it make? The decision was asinine, the result disastrous. And this isn't about me. Start taking this seriously. When you make a mistake,

it's volcanic."

Alerik raised his brows. The more Sharm objected, the more unshakable his conviction became. "Tell me what you really think. Neither set of parents had any objections whatsoever."

"They don't know what we know."

"Which is what exactly? They do know Maegan. And they know me. I'm gathering a quorum, Sharm, to legitimize the partnership. This is going to happen."

He knew that now as surely as he'd recognized it the moment he'd seen the results of the Match Key--that one shining moment of pure, absolute rightness, far more intoxicating than the best fine Mariltar blue ale. The doubts had come afterward.

But the gods of the Mariltar nation had sent a powerful message that day, and the memory of that moment had charted the first change of course in his life. It was the reason he had chosen the Grogon governor's assignment with all its problems over the more prestigious seat on the Coalition Council. It was a choice he hadn't had to make. He could have accepted the council seat and demanded Maegan him.

It would not have been conducive to a successful partnership.

Growing up on Treaine, she had exasperated his adolescent self by attaching herself to him like a banditol leaf every chance she got. He'd tried to ignore the precocious, too-young girl, but ended up being amused and intrigued with some of her antics. Yes, he'd even been a little in awe sometimes of her frequent blithe disregard for the conventions of their culture and tolerant when he should have firmly corrected her behavior. Her resistance to authority had manifested itself even then.

"Alerik, for the sake of Sagar and your own sanity, if not everyone else's, reconsider. Find a way out of this mess. Refute the Match Key. Question the results."

Alerik let out a long breath in a whistle. "Commander Foster, highly decorated hero, a conformist to the end, advocating for rebellion against an institution. Shocking!"

"Why aren't you taking this more seriously?" Sharm's amber eyes glittered with anger. "She'll destroy everything you've worked for your entire life."

"No." Suddenly tired of the argument, Alerik surged to his feet. "She won't. She has some radical views but why, in the end, is that so bad? We're a culture mired in tradition and convention. This galaxy is going through one of the greatest transformations it's ever seen. We're nine distinct great nations learning to coexist and working to craft a common rule of law. Why is Mariltar doctrine so right and eight other nations so wrong? Maybe it's time for us to change."

Once again, he'd shocked Sharm. He'd shocked himself. Where had that come from? It was something Maegan would say.

Sharm recovered with a shake of his head. "I wish it were that simple, Alerik."

They eyed one another carefully.

Sharm shook his head again and wiped a hand down his face. "It doesn't matter what I say, does it? I can see you've made up your stubborn, arrogant mind. What do you want me to do?"

Alerik grinned with relief. No matter what, he could count on his second. "Help me tether a jaloswing before she flies free again. Have my quorum at the med clinic in fifty nans."

The console chirped with an incoming communication. Sharm reached back to activate it. "Yes?"

"Drakal and Corenna reporting in, sir."

"Find anything?"

"No, sir. Covered the entire island."

"Report back here immediately. You have another assignment." Sharm closed off the communicator, then folded his arms. "All right. We'll be there since nothing's going to change your mind. Just warn me when you plan to tell her the part about the miniature Aleriks so I can be around to pick up the pieces."

Alerik gave a bark of laughter. "Count on it!"

As he left the command center, he felt freer than he could ever feeling. The enormous burdens of his rank seemed to be gone. This was the right step. He was now positive about that. Everything else--the future that had been mapped out so carefully, his career, even what he'd be doing ten rotations from now--had acquired blurred edges. This was the one thing, unplanned and unexpected as it was, that had absolute clarity to it.

* * * *

The nightmare had assumed gigantic proportions. Her head was fogged from the pain medication that had been istered earlier when her body had gone into convulsions from, the med technician explained, the lingering residue of poison in her body left by the batriel. All she wanted to do was sleep, yet six--no seven-large men were jammed into the tiny healing room. They loomed over her, stared at her.

Her arms and legs were still restrained. She was naked under the thin sheet. She had never felt so vulnerable.

She squinted. Governor Mariltar, of course, she recognized. He had promised to come back and interrogate her. This must be it. Too bad for him the part of her brain that housed her memory wasn't working. Only totally random, disconnected thoughts were making their way through the blanket of medication.

Don't know, don't know, don't know, she practiced in silent glee. There was that other thing he had told her she knew she should be worried about, but she couldn't quite drag it from the gray, fuzzy recesses.

Commander Foster she also recognized. He had been one of her favorite instructors at the academy. What was such a nice man doing attached to Alerik Mariltar?

And there--she couldn't their names--but there were Brown-hair and Black-hair pasted together like they'd been that day on the beach. How long ago had that been?

She lost interest in her visitors as she snatched at elusive memories.

"Maegan!" Governor Mariltar's face, oddly distorted, far too close, filled her vision. She wanted to poke at the dimple that showed briefly.

"Try to pay attention. This will be over soon. Then you can sleep."

He lifted her right hand from under the thin blanket. How could he do that when she couldn't?

Someone spoke some garbled words. Alerik stroked her palm, which sent odd tingles racing straight to her nipples.

"Maegan, stay awake."

Her nipples felt like balloons. Were they poking through the thin sheet? Was everyone looking at them? She wanted to check but it was too much effort. She decided she didn't care. The sensation against her palm was...arousing. She wanted to just enjoy it. The garbled sounds continued.

Movement drew her attention.

Pretty sapphire light. The same color as Alerik's beautiful eyes.

Her entire hand exploded.

Chapter 6

Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising Pallas Five

Maegan awoke in a room filled with natural light. She lay on a normal sleeping platform, but the s, monitors and equipment on the wall behind her head were a good indication she was still at the med clinic. She shifted one arm experimentally, then the other, then her legs.

Still naked, but she wasn't confined in any way. Her mind was clear. Her body felt more rested than it had in a long time. She sat up. No aches. No pains.

Time to go home. She hadn't a clue how long she'd been at the clinic. She didn't even know where the clinic was.

First, she needed clothes. The walls around her were opaque with the exception of one that had a clear top designed to let in the light. That didn't mean they weren't transparent from the other side.

She reached to pull up the thin covering to wrap it around herself and froze. On her outstretched hand a deep blue light glittered--a thin band of sapphire wrapped around and embedded in the flesh of her three middle fingers.

A confused rush of memories assaulted her. A foul stench. Stinging pain. Alerik bending over her. The hated ride through the tunnel. Inability to move. Alerik again with dimples in his chin. And Alerik again, this time surrounded by a large group of men.

"What have you done?" she whispered. She rubbed at the bright band in her flesh. The feel of it was no different than her skin. It was her skin.

A slight sound penetrated the gathering panic. A in one of the opaque walls slid open and a woman she had never seen before stepped through.

"Counselor Shale," she said brightly. "Awake finally. I'm Medtech Sumnuer. How are you feeling?"

Maegan gathered herself together, and shoved her hand under the cover. "Fabulous," she responded equally brightly. "Just fabulous. I'd like to go home."

"That's always a good sign." Medtech Sumnuer studied the of monitors behind her patient's head. "Lie back, please."

Maegan complied with reluctance. She saw Sumnuer frown and shake her head.

"Not recommended. You still have residual poison in your body. You need to continue the anti-toxin regimen and have complete rest for at least another cycle or two."

"I can rest at home," Maegan shot back. "I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just let me go home. Where am I anyway?"

The corners of Sumnuer's mouth twitched. "I will never understand why our patients are always so desperate to leave our fine hospitality. You're at the med clinic on Pallas Five. We were better prepared to deal with your, ah, condition than Pallas Four was."

Alerik's image popped into Maegan's head. Pallas Four had a fine clinic. She suspected her transfer had more to do with someone's interference than Pallas Four's medical capability. Which made it somehow more imperative she return to her own territory and get out of his.

She tossed aside the thin cover, sat up and slid her legs over the side of the sleeping platform. "Sorry, I really can't stay. If you would just point me to my clothes."

For a moment, the medtech looked like she was going to argue. Then she gave a slight shrug, bent and opened up a lower cabinet.

Forty nans later, Maegan sat on a shuttle, clutching a pouch with medication and instructions. The medtech had not only given her back her repaired clothing, but found her a ride on a med shuttle to Pallas Four. Too easy. It had all been too easy.

What was Alerik Mariltar up to? She studied the bright slash of blue across her fingers and dug in her memory for fragments of a conversation. Her stomach churned. His mark of ownership, no doubt. He'd made good on his threat. But

why? What was he up to?

* * * *

The answer was no more apparent when, two cycles later, Maegan stood in her office and tried to focus on the holographic image of the Grogon Asteroid Belt. She had to devise a new route away from Pallas Four. With increased surveillance on air traffic, her missions had become exponentially more difficult.

Her gaze drifted to the spiraling Alawind Tunnel. Never been done before. But there was no reason why it couldn't. It was clean. No obstacles. The strong wind pressure would take a vessel and push it through to the other side. The problem could be the barren quaoars lurking at the exit if she went through too fast.

"Planning a getaway?" The deep voice was right at her shoulder.

She yelped and whirled. Alerik, dressed more casually in tan matfiber breeches and a pale blue tunic than she had yet seen him, stood with legs braced apart, arms folded, his intent gaze focused on the image. Her finger fumbled frantically to push the right button on the control in her hand. She heard the hiss as the image evaporated.

Alerik's gaze shifted to her.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. She sucked in a great gulp of air. "How did you get in here?"

His brow lifted. "Coryon understands that a husband doesn't need to be announced to his wife."

Stinking starpits and damn, damn, damn. The truth that had been so easy to ignore raised a rash of heat prickles all over her body. She decided supreme indifference had to be the way to go. "What can I do for you, Governor?"

One dimple appeared in his chin and a corner of his mouth kicked up. The sapphire gaze simmered.

"Well, now. That question does raise an interesting range of options. For instance, I could say, talk to me about the batriel attack. Or, I could ask you to disclose where you're hiding your space vessel. Or, even better, tell me about your activities when you're in it." He paused and lifted an eyebrow again. "But, on the other hand, maybe we should just discuss our...marriage."

Supreme indifference became a sad casualty. "Which has to be illegal," she snapped, as another rush of heat prickles attacked her body. "I'll go to the Coalition Council if I have to."

"Ah." Alerik unfolded his arms. "A smart move. Unfortunately, they've already ratified the union, which you'd know if you'd picked up your comm messages."

He took a step toward her. "Make no mistake, Maegan," he said with a quiet firmness, "there is nothing--nothing--illegal about this partnership."

She held her ground although she badly wanted to move. He sucked up more than his fair share of space and his proximity did odd things to her body. The room was cool, but a trickle of perspiration worked its way down her side as his sapphire gaze bored into her and dried up any vestige of intelligent response.

"Tell me about your star vessel, Maegan."

Huh? The man had an attention span of a womat pup. Her brain was still trying to find a suitably scathing, definitive denouncement of the marriage and he had hyper-jumped back to the other dangerous subject, which she wanted to talk about even less than the marriage. Except she didn't want to avoid talking about the marriage anymore. She wanted to attack it, beat it and kill it once and for all. That pleasure would have to wait because, unbelievably, she had a bigger problem to deal with.

She got her tongue moistened enough to stutter, "I don't know what you're talking about. I use public transporters. Haven't flown since the academy."

They couldn't have tagged her. She hadn't been that careless or dysfunctional from the batriel attack. At least, not until she'd ed out.

He nodded. "You do. We're going to find it. Pallas Four isn't that big. It would be better if the information came from you."

"Don't you think your resources have better uses than chasing imaginary star vessels?"

"With five dead bodies on Pallas Seven? I'd say so. But it's one imaginary star vessel, Maegan. One is all I'm interested in. And I'm even more interested in where that vessel has traveled. Tell me there's no connection with Pallas Seven. Tell me you're not trafficking in humanoids."

What in Cor's name was happening on Pallas Seven? She'd heard nothing about dead bodies or humanoid trafficking. Rumors, yes, there were always the rumors, but nothing confirmed. Her mind bounced to her other problem as, with a kind of morbid fascination, she watched the sapphire of Alerik's eyes and his temple mark darken to almost black. It was possible they could locate the Lady Melia. Question was, had she erased the last log? She still couldn't some things from the night of the attack, and she couldn't doing that at all. Nor had she yet been able to summon the energy to make the tunnel trip for only that purpose.

Alerik's body language had taken on an air of menace. He looked like he was barely holding himself in check from reaching out and wrapping those large hands around her throat.

She maintained her ground. She could hold her own despite his size. "You have such a high opinion of me, husband. And I'm really curious why a Mariltar heir would choose a flesh trader as a life partner?"

"Mmph." Black sapphire became blue again and the rigidity left his large body. It was like she'd ed some kind of test. She couldn't fathom what.

"One of these days, Green Eyes, you're going to shock me by actually providing an honest answer to a question. Our respective parents send their blessings, by

the way."

There it was again, that womat attention span. The man had a problem. She'd seen the entries in her communicator log but had put off opening them. Another way of denying reality as long as possible. A parent's acknowledgement of the marriage would legitimize it more effectively than anything else.

She didn't react and he didn't seem to expect a response, but turned and strolled to the curved plexiwall of her office. Large as he was, he moved with a fluid, powerful grace. At his side, his hand flexed. Then it reached out and smoothed over the rounded top of a waist-high pylon at the plexiwall. Sapphire gleamed at the base of his middle fingers.

An odd little shudder rippled through her body.

"Pallas Four's reputation is not exaggerated," he said in a conversational tone. "It is beautiful and very peaceful. I shed a layer or two of stress every time I come here."

Maegan tensed. This did not bode well. Unless womat syndrome kicked in quickly.

"We emphasize the scenic attractions in our marketing," she said lightly. "We'd have a lot less business if people knew about the batriels and gadserp bugs."

"Gadserp bugs?" He sounded amused.

"Tiny little things that burrow under the skin and gnaw holes in you." They were only a problem for unprepared hikers in the jungle undergrowth, but he didn't need to know that.

"I'll be sure to avoid them. You answered that question very nicely. It's not so hard, is it?"

He glanced at her. The sapphire eyes gleamed. A dimple flashed briefly in his chin.

Another shudder made its way through her body.

He turned back to the view. "You met the deadline to turn in your corporate records. Impressive under the circumstances. I would have extended it."

"My staff did most of the work." On the standard financial records for Janas Corporation, her statement was true. But only she, Morgon and a close friend of Morgon's, who happened to be a financial wizard and wasn't associated with Janas Corporation, knew about the second set of records. Which was what had been turned in to Governor Mariltar's audit committee.

"And all that remains now are the economic reports for Pallas Four."

"You'll have those by your deadline as well." Maegan was growing a little desperate. This felt like some bizarre dance where they advanced and retreated

and circled in a complex pattern of words, yet never ed to reveal the true purpose. She didn't really want to hear what that was. It was sort of obvious anyway.

What wasn't clear was what her response would be. Because it had to be convincing.

"I have no doubt."

His hand continued to stroke the pylon. Her body alternated between little shudders and hot and cold prickles. She wasn't as well recovered as she had thought. How much more time would he suck from her jammed schedule? Patience, especially these days, and especially around him, it seemed, was not her strength. She stopped herself just in time from blurting an irritated, "What do you really want?"

She might as well have spoken the words out loud because he turned at that moment to face her.

"I think the solution is clear. We both have busy schedules and obligations. But we also have a marriage partnership. We'll split our time equally between Pallas Four and Pallas Five."

He could read her as clearly as a vid screen. Maegan was not that good at hiding her feelings. What part of his solution had shocked her? That he acknowledged the importance of her work by giving her equal time on Pallas Four? Or that he expected the marriage to function normally?

He ignored the irritation that surged through his veins. She'd had much less time to get used to the idea than he'd had.

"We can duplicate your facilities on Pallas Five," he said. "You'll be fully connected to Janas Corporation. You won't be the first corporate head to work remotely."

Her mouth worked. Her face pinkened. "I know that," she snapped. "And I'm the communications expert, ? It just won't work. I have to be here on site. I meet with my research team at a nan's notice. I--"

"Vid conference."

She glared at him. "The products are sensitive and highly proprietary. We simply can't run the risk of pirates infiltrating communications."

"You're the communications expert, ?" He kept his tone mild. "Even I know that unbreachable technology exists for these purposes."

"Nothing is ever completely secure. It won't work."

He rested his hand on the pylon again. Her eyes flickered. The pink across the top of her cheeks deepened. Interesting.

"Let's not put up barriers where there are none. You can't tell me that Janas Corporation is a failure. I've seen the numbers, Maegan. You have clients across the galaxy paying for technology you're trying to tell me doesn't work. I'm willing to move the governor's office to Pallas Four for part of the time. It's not without inconvenience, but I believe it will work, just as I believe you can make your side work."

Experimentally, he stroked the top of the pylon. An almost imperceptible shiver seized his wife's body. "Let's talk about the real reason for your reluctance."

Her hands clenched at her side. Her lids lowered part way over her green eyes.

"You can't ignore this marriage partnership. It may not have been your choice, but it's done. We have to begin somewhere, and we cannot build even a foundation by being separated. Besides, I'm looking forward to the benefit of your knowledge of the Grogon Asteroid Belt and your leadership skills. You've done an excellent job with Janas."

He'd surprised her again. The green eyes widened, but then she turned away.

"That's what advisors are for," she said dismissively.

Behind her back, Alerik shook his head. Blood of Cor, she was an obstinate little female. And why wouldn't she be? Her genes predisposed her. From adolescence on, when he'd begun to pay attention to the dynamics in adult relationships, he'd observed the occasional battles Maegan's mother and his own had fought with their husbands over sometimes trivial issues. It had interested him how often the men had conceded simply to reestablish harmony, because the women had taken

a position and refused to budge. It was also interesting how the concessions produced certain responses that even a child couldn't misinterpret. Alerik suspected manipulation on both sides. He just couldn't figure out which side was cleverer.

"My team is setting up my office in the Jalo Complex and securing it. It will be at least two cycles before it's ready." In profile to him, she stiffened, but remained silent.

"They'll assist you with whatever you need on Pallas Five as well. You'll stay with me, of course, in the governor's habitat and I will expect to share your habitat here. We've made some external scans and find the security of the building to be...adequate, despite its isolation."

He paused for a reaction, but she stood gazing out onto the ordered, colorful beds of flowering shrubs and plants as if she hadn't heard him. Her illness hadn't done her any favors. If anything, she appeared more gaunt. The circles under her eyes were bigger and darker. One thing he was going to do, he vowed to himself, was teach her how to eat real food and get more rest.

The console behind them chimed.

"Maegan, are you there?" It was a male voice filled with excitement.

She stirred and turned. Her gaze flickered over him as if he were inconsequential. "Yes, Makiee."

"Celeeebration time." The male voice was filled with glee. "The prototype of ComXFive came through the test without a burp or hiccup. We'll meet you down at Gloriana's."

"Well done, Makiee. I'll be there." None of the liveliness in her voice was evident in the cool expression she turned to him. "Business calls."

"Of course, and I must get back to Pallas Five. I'll see you in two cycles."

Chapter 7

Margaine Confluence:/Fifth Rising Pallas Four

Gloriana's was jammed with bodies and it was still early in the evening. The real action wouldn't happen for some time yet.

The Janas group had arrived early enough to stake out a corner with padded stools and a table. Most people stood in intimate, closed groups. Some prowled through the brightly lit room, trolling for interest in an age-old mating ritual, or posed on one of the many balconies that overlooked the main floor to see and be seen.

Gloriana's made that easy enough. From floor to wall to ceiling, the entire club was mirrored. There were few locals in the crowd, which was interesting. When had the shift occurred from favored local hangout to tourist hangout?

Maegan had had too much to drink and the Janas celebration was still going strong. Her group had even pulled in Brown-hair and Black-hair, who had followed her to the club. The two weren't participating in the drink of choice though. Grogon limale was usually a mild alcoholic beverage, but tonight it seemed to be spiked with something. She would bet that whatever it was her two bodyguards were imbibing didn't contain a trace of alcohol.

She turned her head and the entire room undulated. Maybe it was just that her body in its present state couldn't handle even a small amount of alcohol. She should go home and go to bed.

Her focus wavered again and settled on a disturbance in the room. Gloriana herself worked the crowd tonight. Spectacular in studded bronze body armor, which made it dangerous for anyone to come into with her, her enormous body forged a wide path. Fake scarlet hair tumbled in artful disarray over her shoulders and huge breasts, which were faithfully outlined by the tight body armor. Strands of beaded jewelry dripped from around her neck, and thick makeup glittered on her face, rendering her age indeterminate.

Her intent wasn't. She was headed straight for their corner.

Maegan's flight instinct kicked in. She had to figure out how to vanish without attracting Gloriana's notice. Brown-hair and Black-hair had become the focus of attention in her group. Her young engineers had begun by launching a gleeful, unmannerly interrogation of the warriors. The conversation had quickly turned more respectful and now an intense discussion on the complexities of a hologame Maegan had never heard of was in process. With luck, she might be able to slip away into the crowd.

Setting her half-empty glass on the table, she tried to rise and couldn't. Her legs wouldn't obey her brain. She braced her arms on either side of the stool and pushed. Still nothing. A frisson of panic swirled through her. She must have made a sound because Black-hair turned to look at her.

His gaze sharpened. He set his drink down.

Before he could speak, Gloriana was upon them. "My favorite young things," she cooed. "So glad to see Janas Corporation hasn't abandoned me. You're all working too hard, and not coming to see me often enough." Her jewelry chimed and tinkled. The finger she shook was aimed at Maegan.

Respectful greetings rippled from around the table as Gloriana inserted her body into a too-small space between Brown-hair and Black-hair. They tried to shift their stools, and froze as Gloriana reached around and pulled them to nestle against her enormous breasts and studded armor.

"And who are these two gorgeous ones? Maegan, I hear you have been a very naughty girl."

For a nan, there was dead silence, before predictably the group erupted with a cacophony of snickers, whistle trills and snide remarks. No one seemed too concerned about the predicament of the two Mariltar warriors who appeared to be in danger of imminent suffocation. For men taught to use their bodies as weapons, they weren't doing much to extricate themselves.

"Quiet. Quiet. That was not a license to employ bad manners." Gloriana shook her massive body--hair, jewelry, warrior appendages and all. And when the chimes died away, she had the group's fascinated attention. "Better." She turned her gaze on Maegan. "Your hand."

Starpits! There was no point in dissembling. Maegan gritted her teeth, unclenched her hand from the edge of the stool and presented it for Gloriana's inspection.

"Ah. For once the gossip leakers are right." Gloriana must have tightened her grip because one of the men in her grasp groaned. Black-hair rolled his visible eye at Maegan.

"So why does Governor Mariltar leave his newly bonded life partner on her own? Bodyguards are a poor substitute for a husband. But perhaps he needs some direction."

She must have squeezed again. Black-hair winced.

"You two!" She shook herself again and rolled her gaze down at the two heads clutched to her breasts. "Bring him to see me on his next visit to Pallas Four."

She turned her attention back to Maegan, ignoring the quiet state of shock that held the rest of the group immobile. "Heard you were attacked by a batriel recently. Hope you're not drinking. Alcohol and batriel venom produce unpleasant side effects."

She glanced down. "Hunh. Maybe I'll keep you two. You don't squirm." A rumble of mirth shuddered from her. She squeezed, and abruptly released them.

"Be good," she commanded of the group in general. "I'll hear about it if you're not." And off she waddled, causing bodies to scramble frantically before her.

"I think I have permanent dents in my face. What was that?" Brown-hair broke the shocked silence. He fingered his cheek. Black-hair watched Maegan, a frown

on his face.

"An honest woman with no secrets." Makiee, the project's lead engineer turned an accusing face to Maegan. "Is it true?"

"Course it is," said Nimon. "Haven't you heard about the Mariltar brand? She's been branded." Nimon pointed to Maegan's hand.

She wanted to hide it behind her back but forced herself to keep it in her lap. The sapphire band sparkled brightly for all to see. It had been too much to hope that this was knowledge she could keep to herself until she'd figured out a foolproof plan to make the partnership go away.

From the group's reaction, Coryon hadn't said a word, although Alerik said he'd told her. If Coryon really did know, she hadn't fed the gossip machine. As an assistant, she was earning her merits.

"Did a batriel really attack you?" Shal-el, the youngest of the group sat forward eagerly. "Did it drip ghastly green goo from its mouth? Did it stink? Do you have a scar?"

"Wait your turn." Makiee's silver eyes, in the low lumens, glowed eerily and betrayed his Bogasill heritage. He shoved his colleague. "I want to know why she went and bonded with Governor Mariltar and what this means for Janas Corporation."

"Why would it have any affect on Janas... Oh!"

Seven sets of eyes containing various degrees of speculation, concern and interest, and two containing some bemusement, studied Maegan.

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She found she couldn't close her mouth again. If there was ever a ninth dimension, this was it. Her brain functioned perfectly normally, but nothing it told the rest of her body to do worked. She couldn't even budge a finger and now she looked like an idiot with her mouth hanging open.

"What's wrong with her?" Nimon demanded.

"What's she been drinking?" Black-hair said.

He picked up Maegan's hand. She saw him do it, but she couldn't feel it.

"Grogon limale, same as everyone else."

"Not much alcohol in that." Black-hair was peering into her eyes. He frowned. "Can't take much."

"Ah..." Behind him Shal-el exchanged a guilty look with Bortock.

The two Merlons, who could almost have been twins, were brilliant together with code creation but, barely out of adolescence, they were also mischievous troublemakers. Maegan had had them in her office more than once to deliver disciplinary edicts, mostly consisting of community service which, to give them credit, they performed with as much enthusiasm as they had the transgression. "We reprogrammed the bar caddy when we came in."

"We added a very small shot of Merlon mitte to the recipe," said Bortock. "Very small." He pinched his fingers together.

That was another thing about the two. When caught, they always were quick to confess.

"Merlon mitte," said Black-hair, who was doing something with her wrist, "is the most potent drink in the galaxy. Even in minute quantities. We've got to get her to medical attention now."

"You fools! No wonder my head is spinning. And look at poor Maegan."

Nimon, who came from a long line of Soron warrior priestesses, took a swing at Shal-el. If she'd connected directly, she could have done some serious damage, but Shal-el saw it coming and ducked. The blow caught Black-hair in the side. He stumbled and fell into Bortock.

Maegan, her mouth hanging open, her arm dangling in the air where Black-hair had let go of it, could do nothing but watch helplessly as Morgon's galactieace-through-a-united-goal experiment dissolved into a mini galactic club brawl. The audience that quickly gathered around them was only interested in

placing bets and Gloriana was nowhere to be seen.

Brown-hair finally extricated Black-hair from underneath Nimon and they both grabbed Maegan. As they bore her from the club, she caught sight of Gloriana forging her way toward the disturbance. The look on her face comforted Maegan. At least she wasn't going to have to worry about discipline. Gloriana would take care of it.

* * * *

She awoke in another strange room with no memory of what had transpired after they'd left the club. She wriggled a toe, then a finger, an arm and a leg. Everything seemed to be working. She felt good, much better than she had in a while.

The faint sweet tang of tiug leaf wisped across her nostrils. It was barely enough warning.

"Maegan," said Alerik, in a soft rumble that raised tiny hairs all over her body, "you really do need to stop getting into these...situations."

He strolled into her line of vision, a tall man and--oh, blazing starpits--wearing nothing but loose pants draped low across his hips and a half smile on his lips. Her sense of well-being vanished as her sweat glands went crazy and tension tightened every cell in her body.

She forced her mouth open. "Before you arrived, my life was perfectly normal."

He laughed and stopped beside her, too close. "Ah. You imply that I somehow had something to do with the attack and the, ah, club scuffle."

She closed her eyes. All that bare, hard flesh was too much to take. "Of course not." She couldn't help herself and cracked open one eye again. Maybe he wouldn't notice. "Well, actually, the club fight was your fault." At least he'd been one of the sparks.

"Yes?" He sat down facing her on the raised sleeping platform. His hip brushed against hers with only two thin layers of cloth between them, which made her realize that someone had removed all her clothes again. She didn't even want to think about that.

The scent of tiug was stronger. His body heat licked her hip and reached out tentacles to places deep in her body. She squeezed both eyes shut again.

"I had this fascinating vid conversation with the proprietress of the club, Mistress Gloriana."

He picked up her hand and cradled it between his. The simmering heat in her body erupted into a conflagration.

"Yes, Mistress Gloriana found it quite interesting that the staff of Janas Corporation was unaware of their leader's change in marital status, and she was

also quite indignant that the Counselor of Pallas Four hadn't seen fit to announce her marriage partnership to the populace of Pallas Four. Protocol and ceremony are very important to Mistress Gloriana, as they should be." He chuckled and squeezed her hand. "She didn't place all the blame on you, you'll be happy to know. I received a thorough scolding on that one as well. But she has taken it upon herself to disseminate the news in an appropriate way."

Wonderful. Just what she didn't want. But the image of the club proprietress scolding Alerik Mariltar was intriguing. She chose to focus on that in a desperate attempt to ignore his thumb, which was stroking the top of her hand. It didn't work.

His thumb stroked. Her hand was limp with pleasure. The rest of her body, traitor that it was, strained with yearning for the same treatment. Alerik was silent.

The silence stretched until she couldn't bear it anymore and cracked open an eye again. His head was bent a little, his expression thoughtful, his gaze focused on their ed hands.

He was quite beautiful, she realized, with a little jolt. His dark hair, burnished with a tinge of deep red, was trimmed closely to shape of his skull. His facial features were strong but evenly proportioned. He had the classical Mariltar profile--straight nose, square chin, full lips. In this contemplative mood he'd fallen into, his chin dimples were nowhere in evidence.

She was seized by an urge to reach out and run her hand over the smooth, rounded contours of his arms and chest. He had minimal visible body hair. Silk wisps spread across his chest and framed the small hard nubs of his nipples. The hair darkened and thickened where it grew in a narrow line down beneath the

waist of his pants.

Her gaze drifted back up over the flat, hard planes of his stomach and the muscles of his chest. It was like he was built with body armor. There was no softness to him at all. Her hand not held captive between his itched again to test him, to see if he was as hard, yet silk-smooth as he appeared.

She looked up. Hated heat flooded her face. He was watching her study him. His mouth twitched. His dimples appeared.

"If you keep looking at me like that, Green Eyes, I'll have to do something about it."

She snatched her hand away. "Don't delude yourself. Where am I?"

"Governor's habitat on Pallas Five. We all decided you needed supervision."

"All? Who's all? Alerik Mariltar dictating his desires and expecting everyone else to go along?"

This close to him, she saw with fascination a shadow of some emotion deepen the sapphire of his eyes and temple mark, but his chin dimples remained firmly in place.

"Not at all. It was the consensus of Gloriana, the medtech here on Pallas Five,

Corenna, Drakal and myself."

"Huh. Well, with the exception possibly of Gloriana, I can't imagine why anyone's opinion should possibly matter to me. I'd like to go home, please."

Alerik shook his head. "You are such a rebel. But this time you don't get a choice. Medtech Sumnuer wants you on bed rest for a couple of days."

"I feel perfectly fine." She couldn't stay here for two cycles. She couldn't. She wasn't sure how long she'd been here already and she had an imminent mission to undertake, the details of which might already be lodged in her personal comm unit.

"That was the problem the last time." Alerik rose to his feet, yawned and stretched, revealing tuffs of silky hair in his armpits. His pants slipped a little lower on his hips. He tugged at them casually with one hand, but they settled back to the same position when he let go.

"You felt fine, didn't follow orders, drank alcohol and ended up with temporary paralysis. Your body's very fragile right now. You need rest."

He strolled around the end of the sleeping platform. The lumens in the room dimmed as he went. "I need rest. Too little sleep since I arrived."

Oh, that implication wasn't subtle at all. She was out of here as soon as he left and she could find her clothes. He reached the end of the platform but, instead of

heading for the exit to the room, he turned and moved up the other side of the platform. The lumens extinguished completely as he lifted the cover and climbed onto the bed.

As she lay stiff with horror on the large platform that could easily accommodate four bodies his size, but seemed stiflingly small nonetheless, he murmured, "Let me save you some trouble. This room is secured. If you try to leave, an alarm will sound."

* * * *

Two more bodies had been found on Pallas Seven, battered and bruised, and dumped in an incinerator vat. They would have been vaporized without a trace, along with the rest of the garbage and debris, if the Pallas Seven counselor hadn't ordered a surprise facility inspection. Cause of death was not yet officially determined, but obvious nonetheless. No one had claimed the bodies.

And, coincidentally, the counselor had narrowly avoided being the target of a poison dart later that morning.

Alerik shoved his chair back from his console just as a chime sounded. "Enter."

Sharm, looking polished and smooth and playboy handsome, and not at all like the deadly weapon he really was, strolled through the door of his office.

"Good day, Governor." He swaggered a bit as he crossed the ion floor. "How's

the miniature Alerik project coming?"

Alerik's thoughts immediately clamped onto how he had left Maegan that morning, fast asleep in his bed. She was an untidy, restless sleeper. She'd been belly down, arms and legs flung out in every direction, the thin cover stretched across her sweet little ass and one leg, leaving her back bare. Blood surged to his groin.

"It's been initiated." Having her naked in his bed was certainly a start.

He eyed Sharm, who was prowling along the edge of his console. He was reporting in late this morning, an almost unheard of event for him.

"A good night?"

Sharm flashed a lecherous grin. "An adventurous one with a bonus ending. The ladies of The Alabaster Nightshade do have some extraordinary talents."

Alerik scowled. "Thought this was supposed to a fact-finding mission?"

"It was. That was the adventurous part. The bonus part was--"

"Spare me the details of your private activities. Anything useful?"

Sharm shook his head. "A dead end. If there's something there, the employees are either outstanding liars or not in the game, but I don't think there is. The Alabaster Nightshade appears perfectly legitimate. Only one small set back. Dono Kalister was not overseeing his domain last night. Seemed unusual. His employees were surprised he wasn't there."

"Go back until he does show up. The source that pointed the finger seems trustworthy. Two unidentified bodies were discovered in an incinerator vat this morning and there was another attempt on the counselor's life."

"Blood of Cor!" Sharm stopped prowling and stuck his hands in the pockets of his breeches. "And we thought this was going to be one of those quick clean-ups, then we'd be sitting around growing soft, fat bellies for the remainder of your term. The reek of lawlessness is oozing ever deeper into Grogon."

"How eloquent," Alerik said dryly. He rose to his feet. "But facts remain that it still seems confined to Pallas Seven. Whatever Maegan is up to, it is something entirely unrelated."

He hoped. She couldn't possibly be caught up in what was clearly a flesh trade supply to human death matches. But he was almost certain she had piloted an unauthorized flight and she was involved in something. He had to figure out what and quickly.

"I'm going to take her back to Pallas Four and work from there for a while. Continue with your investigation and keep me briefed."

"Yes, sir." Sharm snapped to attention, before relaxing with a grin. In private,

they had long since dispensed with formalities. "Will you need Corenna and Drakal?"

Alerik hesitated. Sharm needed every man he could get on the Pallas Seven problem, but his instincts were clamoring to keep Corenna and Drakal assigned to Maegan. It was annoying. He should be able to manage his own life partner, but at this stage of their very uncertain relationship, he couldn't afford to take chances when there were so many unknowns. Short of shackling her to him, he couldn't keep track of her all the time.

"They go with me," he said curtly. "For now."

"Good." Sharm was pleased. He no doubt would add an additional set of orders to the pair's duties. They would be expected to keep a close protective eye on Alerik as well.

"We'll be leaving after the mid-day meal." He paused at the door to his office. "And do inform them that the term 'nursemaiding' is hardly descriptive of their duties. So far, their charge has managed to out-maneuver them."

Anticipation filled him as he rode the private tube shuttle. It grew stronger as he strode along the path to the governor's habitat. The air was pleasantly cool. Pallas Five's yellow stone buildings basked in a weak sun.

He'd ordered a light meal--no nutro tablets--and looked forward to sharing it with Maegan. There would no doubt be some balking, but he fully intended to overcome it. The food he had chosen would tempt the pickiest appetite.

His pulse quickened as he approached the door to the habitat and wondered how he would find her, still sleeping or awake and annoyed at her confinement? He'd left her no clothes. Would she resort to wearing his or simply wrap a linen around herself? He had indulged himself in a good long look at her nude body after he'd removed her clothes the night before, but he had refrained from touching when he'd wanted to so badly.

He deactivated the additional security mechanism with his private code before placing his hand on the door pad.

He knew, even as he stepped across the threshold into the silent rooms, that he was alone. Maegan was gone.

Chapter 8

Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising Pallas Four

Maegan leaned against the plexiwall of the cleansing unit and let the comforting multiple streams of heated water flow over her.

Finding transport back to Pallas Four had taken far too long. It didn't help that she was dressed like a vagabond in mismatched clothing--a tunic that flowed to her calves, leggings that underneath the tunic bagged to her knees, and sandal slippers that each could have accommodated two of her feet--but it was the best she could do with what she had found in Alerik Mariltar's belongings. The man was too slieking big.

She was tired, even though it was only mid-day and even after a surprisingly good night's sleep. Her body wasn't handling recent events well.

Even so, she smiled at how easy it had been to disengage the Mariltar security system, thanks to Makiee. He had shown her long ago a foolproof system of reengineering the communications circuits that were basic technology in almost everything. The Mariltar team must have been so sure they could confine her with technology, because no guards had been posted. She had slipped out and found the transport station with no difficulty.

The people she had encountered along the way had paid no attention to someone looking like a wilderness wanderer. But with no identification, because he had taken it from her along with her own clothes, the difficulty had come with convincing a transporter pilot that she was the counselor of Pallas Four and had legitimate business there. He'd finally put her on vid screen with Coryon who'd confirmed her identity. After that, the pilot had broken some departure protocols and speed constraints to get her to Pallas Four.

Alerik would without a doubt come after her, but she wouldn't be there. She had a mission to run that night. Although it was far too early to take the Lady Melia out, she planned to conceal the ship somewhere. She just hadn't decided where yet. Her plan was risky, but not as risky as waiting around to be incarcerated again.

Had he discovered her absence yet? Probably not. She'd hacked his schedule on the habitat console and seen that it was jammed. The governor was in high demand. She was counting on the schedule being accurate and on the fact that Alerik thought she was securely confined.

She adjusted the streams of water and turned to let them pummel her back. As she leaned her forearm on the plexiwall and rested her face on it, she imagined Alerik's reaction. Goose bumps raised her flesh, and a shudder rippled through her despite the humid heat surrounding her. The glowing sapphire of his eyes and temple mark would darken to almost black, a sure sign of his anger. Beyond that, she didn't want to think of the consequences, of which she was sure there would be something unpleasant. Would he be most disturbed over her failure to comply, or the fact that she had disabled a security system?

Enough! She should get going.

With reluctance, she reached for the gel dispenser. It was rare that she indulged by spending time in the cleansing unit. Usually she was in and out.

The sharp tang of citrus swirled in the air as she rubbed gel into her hair, then across her body. Her nipples were tight and tingling, the flesh between her legs swollen and ultra sensitive. Her monthly flow had been erratic for a while and non-existent for several moon-cycles. Maybe it was about to start again. She sighed and rubbed gel across her bottom. She hadn't missed it or paid it much attention except for some ing concern that she was driving her body too hard. Her flow was definitely an inconvenience on her missions.

She indulged herself for several more nans as the water sluiced the gel from her body, before she turned it off and stepped from the steam-clogged plexiunit.

Legs stretched before him, Alerik Mariltar lounged in the padded chair by the deep bathing tub. From there he had an unobstructed view of the cleansing unit. His posture and heavy-lidded gaze made it clear that he'd been there for a while.

* * * *

Alerik watched Maegan's frantic glance about the bathing chamber for something with which to cover herself. The toweling linen she had placed ready for use by the cleansing unit was draped across his lap.

Good thing too. He'd been in a state of heavy arousal since he'd walked into the room and found a show to excite any newly bonded man. He'd firmly repressed the guilt of an uninvited observer, and settled in to watch as her hands smoothed far too quickly over the deep rose peaks of her breasts, disappeared through the

gold fluff between her legs and massaged the curve of her bottom.

Now she stood before him, her skin flushed and gleaming in the natural light that streamed through the plexidome above. Her poor eating habits were obvious in the delineation of her rib cage and prominence of her hipbones. The batriel attack was evident in the raw scar across her left bicep.

She made no move to shield herself. iration surged through him. Courage was something she had in abundance.

She tilted her chin, looked him straight in the eye and flung out an imperious hand. "May I have it?"

"Certainly," he said. He gathered up the linen from his lap and held it out.

Her eyes flickered. The color in her face deepened. She had to take several steps to come close enough to snatch the linen from his hand.

It was all he could do not to reach out and snatch her. He was granted ten nanonans more of visual pleasure as she fumbled with the linen and almost dropped it. But then she anchored it to her chest with one hand and, with the other, clumsily dragged it around herself.

"I don't suppose," she said, as she bent her dripping head and secured the linen, "that I should ask why you're here?"

"Not a good idea," he agreed, clamping down on a swift rise of anger. He rose to his feet, conscious of the heaviness in his groin. "This is getting to be a bad habit, Maegan."

She held her ground even though he now crowded her personal space, but her body was poised as taut as a nervous merlocat's, and the knuckles of her hand, clenched around the linen, were white.

"Well then," she said, and her gaze never wavered, "stop expecting me to follow orders that have no relevance to my life."

Amazing that he could be so aroused and yet so angry. He wanted to rip the linen from her, throw her to the floor and relieve this simmering brew of anger, frustration and pure lust.

"Did it ever occur to you," he said, and his voice came out sounding clipped and haughty, "that I might be acting in your best interests."

"No." She tilted her chin even further. "Everything you do has a deliberate purpose, but that purpose serves your objectives, nobody else's, and certainly not mine."

"You're driving your body too hard, Maegan. It's experienced trauma. You need to give it time to recover. You're undernourished as it is." Cor's blood, he hadn't meant to add those last words. He saw his mistake in the angry flash of her green eyes and the tightening of her mouth.

She turned her head. Dismissive. Removed. A simple gesture, but it angered him more.

"I'm not going back to Pallas Five. I have work to do here."

He forced a casual shrug. "Let's compromise then. At least follow the medtech's advice on rest and nourishment."

"You're staying?"

"For now."

"I don't need a nursemaid."

He snorted. "Believe me, a nursemaid is not a role I envision for myself in this relationship."

She took three steps away from him and bent her head. The wet strands of her hair swung forward to shield her face, but he still had an unobstructed view in the mirrored wall on the other side of her. That flicker of panic had been unmistakable.

"I don't wish to inconvenience you. I'm sure you have a busy schedule. I'll agree to follow the medtech's advice. You don't need to stay."

And there was no way in the Universe he was buying into that one. He folded his arms. "Trust is a funny thing, Maegan. There are some people who can instinctively be trusted, others who have to build trust over time. Guess where someone who has a habit of disappearing, ignoring orders, reengineering communications and security systems and hacking into private schedules falls on that scale?"

Her hair flew as she swung violently to face him. "Yet you still bonded with me," she spat.

"Careful," he chided. "Or you'll learn more about my motivations sooner than you want to."

Her breasts heaved beneath the thin linen. Her face was flushed. The air between them crackled with a tension that was suddenly and undeniably sexual. Her eyes widened for an instant then narrowed.

"Stay then," she snapped. "It doesn't matter to me."

She raised her chin. "Please leave. I'd like some privacy."

"Certainly." He unfolded his arms and strolled to the door. "When you're dressed, we'll partake of a late mid-day meal together."

* * * *

Maegan emerged from the bathing chamber a leisurely fifty nans later, still fuming. With any luck, Alerik had either expired from hunger or grown bored with waiting and gone off to do whatever governors did. Either way, she didn't care. The more time that elapsed before she saw him again, the better.

Her skin still prickled because she couldn't erase the image of his leisurely survey of her nude body. And it was worse when she thought of what he must have observed while she was still in the cleansing unit. He'd had time to study her and he'd obviously found her wanting.

Undernourished! She should be happy he found her unattractive. She just couldn't understand why her nerves were so fried.

While she'd dried her hair and pampered her body with lotions and creams she hadn't taken the time with lately, she'd come up with a plan to accomplish her mission.

It wasn't foolproof by any means. But with a little luck, she might be able to get away with it. Because if the plan didn't succeed, she shuddered to think of Alerik Mariltar's reaction. He'd been angry earlier. She could tell from the change in the color of his eyes, even though his face and body language showed little sign. And she'd expected it. But then the anger had changed to something else, something infinitely more disturbing that she didn't want to think about. She would rather face his anger.

She chose a bodysuit in her favorite soft green and dressed quickly. She had to make a visit to Morgon's hidden habitat to get what she needed and make it back before Alerik missed her.

The habitat felt empty. She was fairly certain he wasn't there. To be safe, she opened up the miniature vid console and scanned the other rooms.

She almost missed him.

The large common room was empty, but as she was about to switch to the utility room, a flicker of movement through the wide plexiwall caught her attention. She scanned in. He was outside, propped against the rail of the gallery that overlooked the deep valley wilderness.

"Sliek," she muttered. There was no way she could risk the trip with him in the habitat. She'd have to get rid of him somehow.

She shoved her feet into half boots and made for the door leading to the common room. But when she stepped through it, Alerik was already part way across the room.

"Ah," he said. "I was just coming to check on you. Shall we eat?"

"I'm really not hungry," she replied. "I had something earlier and I need to check in on Janas."

"Nutro tablets don't count." He had continued to walk toward her, and now took her arm and propelled her in the direction from which he'd come. His touch, even through the fabric of the bodysuit, scorched her.

"And Janas won't implode in the next few nans without you. Thought we'd eat outside," he said. "Beautiful day."

She felt as if she was communicating on a closed vid channel. She talked, but no one paid any attention because they couldn't hear her. Except he could hear her. He just chose to ignore her. She tried to twist out of his grasp. He simply tightened his grip and almost lifted her off her feet.

And then they were through the door and onto the gallery. It was pleasantly warm on the wide deck--hot when the sun touched the skin of her face and hand. The sweet aroma of wild millick, a profusely flowering vine, was strong here, the scent borne on warm air currents from the valley below. Chatter from the resident colony of squems competed with the melodious coo of a transerpent.

He turned her toward a corner of the gallery where heavy shade offered coolness. She saw with dismay a table laden with food. Her stomach cramped. She couldn't eat. Not this close to a mission.

But he ignored her murmured objection and seated her on the padded bench. And instead of taking the opposite bench, he sat down next to her, so close his thigh brushed against hers.

"I'm a touch famished," he announced. "The meal was prepared to be served at mid-day but, for the most part, the foodsavers should have kept the flavors intact. Why don't we start with the lexfruit?"

She didn't bother to reply. Whatever she might have said wouldn't have made a bit difference. This side of him was totally fascinating. He was completely focused on the food. "A touch famished" didn't begin to describe his demeanor, and a memory of their first meeting on Pallas Four nudged her. She hadn't paid much attention at the time, but his intent behavior then was similar to now.

Alerik Mariltar had a weakness!

He snapped open a dish and used miniature tongs to lift out two long vermillion strips covered in a syrup, which he laid on a single serving plate.

Shock sizzled through her. Mariltar custom prescribed that a newly bonded couple take their first meal together from one platter. Of course a Mariltar heir would observe such an important tradition. The shackles that had been placed on her, in a ceremony she didn't , tightened even further.

He efficiently sliced the fruit strips into small pieces with his eating implement. Then he scooped up a morsel and offered it to her.

"Open," he commanded.

What could she do? Knock his hand away? Leap over the gallery railing? Refuse to eat like a rebellious child?

His sapphire gaze compelled her. She opened her mouth. Flavor exploded on her tongue as her taste buds so long denied leapt to attention from the sweet

stickiness. Her eyes almost rolled back in her head.

He fed himself a bite, then offered the next to her. And so it went on, this almost silent, intimate offering of food. Every time, she told herself she wouldn't-couldn't--accept another bite. Every time the temptation to experience a new taste, a new texture made her yield to him.

This was wrong, wrong, wrong, her head chanted, but the refrain never pushed past the thick blanket of delicious sensation that kept her body relaxed and pliant on the bench next to his. His entire side now melded to her from shoulder to knee, an anchor in a storm of pleasure that she could not allow herself to reveal.

"Enough?" he finally asked and laid down his implement.

Her stomach agreed but all the nerve endings that tingled with fiery anticipation every time he approached her mouth with some new offering shrieked "no".

He opened up yet another canister and withdrew a bottle of Mariltar blue ale.

"None for you," he said, squelching her anticipation with a reminder of her illness and its consequences. "But I do have this." He pulled out an unfamiliar tube filled with a sparkling silver liquid. "Soron ambrosia." Dimples appeared in his chin. "Non-alcoholic."

He poured the liquids into two small goblets and offered her the ambrosia. "Good health."

"Same." She said the word softly, as an unfamiliar shyness stole her confidence and introduced a sudden awkwardness. What was she doing? She had let him feed her as if they were lovers. He was familiar but she barely knew the man. She forced her mind back to her most immediate problem of getting him out of the habitat for as long as it took to make a run to Morgon's hideout.

He had turned his head and was watching the antics of two furry little squems on the gallery railing. The six-limbed creatures, which had disproportionately large claws on their two middle paws, were bold to come this close, drawn by the scent of food, no doubt. She knew they would come no closer. One squealed and tumbled over the side to catch itself on the branch of a grangran tree. The other, unwilling to stay without company, leapt after it.

Then suddenly the sapphire gaze was boring into her, far too close. His thigh pressed firmly against hers.

"Tell me." His voice was a husky purr. "How were you able to disarm my security system so easily? I don't believe we teach classes in that discipline at the academy."

Lulled by the food and warmth and oddly sensual experience into a pleasant, drifting state of relaxation, the question caught her off guard. She choked on a sip of ambrosia and went into a coughing fit.

"Whoa." Alerik patted her back. He pulled a square of fabric from his pocket and handed it to her. As she mopped her eyes, his other hand began to rub her back in circles.

She propped her elbows on the table, buried her face in the soft fabric and allowed the soothing motion to distract her.

Alerik tapped her nape. "You're not going to avoid my question, are you? At this rate, I'm going to have to start keeping a list."

For some reason, that struck her as funny. It might have been the exaggerated note of plaintiveness in his voice. It might have been the vision of his scowling discontent as he contemplated a scrolling vid screen of multiple questions with missing answers. A snicker erupted from her before she could suppress it.

Beside her, Alerik grunted. Now his hand rubbed vertically up and down her back. Prickling tentacles of bliss crept from where he touched her to every extremity.

"On the other hand, I can just extract the answers with drugs."

He sounded half-serious.

"That's illegal," she mumbled into her hands.

"Not if you're the governor of the Grogon Asteroid Belt. We governors have the ability to employ certain little known emergency powers as we see fit."

Maegan gave in to the mesmerizing pleasure of his touch. She laid her forehead on her arms on the table. "Obtaining information from your bonded mate could hardly qualify as an emergency."

"You'd be surprised what could be made to qualify as an emergency."

His hand moved to the tight muscles of her neck and she shuddered as the bones in her limbs dissolved. "Someone taught me," she offered him as a reward.

"That, believe it or not, I figured out for myself. Who?"

"Classified," she muttered.

He sighed. "And we were doing so well. Would you prefer the needle or gun?"

She snickered again. "What time dimension are you living in? And are you really the governor or are you just delusional?"

"Well, now," he said softly. "I am whatever you want me to be."

His hand, firm on her nape, forced her head up until she looked directly at him. The expression in his eyes as he first studied her face, then focused on her lips, was unmistakable, and a complete contradiction to her conviction that he found her unattractive. Her mouth went dry and her full stomach sprang to life with a dozen little bedring creatures.

"Who taught you, Maegan?" he murmured.

Later, when she had worked up a fury at herself for giving in so easily, she blamed it on the certainty that he had hypnotized her with that liquid sapphire gaze. His warm breath touched, stroked, caressed her lips. They parted. She couldn't help herself. Willpower seemed to have been sucked into the oblivion of a collapsing nebula.

"M...Makiee," she whispered.

"Ah." The caress of his breath was flavored with the intoxicating scent of Mariltar ale. "Tell Makiee," he said, his lips a finger's width from hers, "to expect a visit."

Chapter 9

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising Pallas Four

Blazing super-fried starpits! Maegan shoved her hand against the ID pad in Morgon's hidden habitat. A whole section of the wall slid aside soundlessly. What had she expected? That he would kiss her? And then what would she have done?

She stomped into the narrow vault. Bright lumens automatically flickered on with her entrance. A kiss from her bonded mate was to be avoided at all costs. So what had he slieking done to her that she would just sit there, incapable of twitching a muscle, and gaze helplessly into the devious depths of his beautiful eyes as he prepared to deliver it?

Except he hadn't.

She stalked farther into the vault, past Morgon's impressive--and illegal-collection of weapons collected from across the Crestar System, past the prototypes he had created himself.

Not that she wasn't relieved that Alerik hadn't kissed her. It just reinforced that he found her too skinny and unattractive. So why had he slieking bonded with her?

She stopped suddenly and spun on her heel. Pormiam's breath, where had that come from? She'd seen images, but had never seen a real one. She was positive the stun blaster hadn't been there the last time she had been in the vault.

The lumen halos shone on the dull metal and deadly disrupters of the massive blaster, which hung between a Mogton pike and a Bogasill bortax. It was Soron in origin, an ancient assault weapon, intended to be carried by two men, and designed to vaporize any barrier and painfully annihilate anyone unlucky enough to be caught in its sound waves without protection.

"Morgon," she shouted in a fit of frustration into the dead quiet of the underground habitat, "what are you up to? Why haven't you ed me?" Her shout was sucked into the thick walls and only a deafening silence answered her.

"I need you," she whispered, and leaned forward to touch the cold, unforgiving metal of the death weapon.

Morgon, with his ever-practical outlook on life and deep sense of justice, would help her make order out of the complete chaos her life had become. More than anyone else, even her parents, he would champion her. Alerik Mariltar wouldn't stand a chance.

The thought provided a modicum of comfort. She continued on her way to the other mostly illegal arsenal Morgon kept in his vault. Behavior altering substances. Liquids, powders, sprays and even a few solid chunks of rare carmonil, which dispersed an airborne residue that induced a deep sleep for several cycles until the substance completely evaporated.

She didn't need something that strong for Alerik. She just needed to be sure he remained comatose for the night without a clue that something had aided his sleep.

Mistrani should do it. And there was the small clear pouch bearing the leaves which, when squeezed, sprayed a mist that didn't actually induce a reaction until touched by heat. Body heat was enough.

She snatched up the pouch and hurried out of the vault. If Morgon had been here to add to his collection, maybe he had stayed. Sure enough, there were the tiny signs that only she would notice--a wrinkle in the sleeping platform cover, a pillow out of position on the couch. She opened storage cabinets where it became even more obvious. Different clothing, different foodstuffs. It was quite possible he might have been here for cycles. Quite possible that he was still here.

She turned from the last cabinet. "Morgon?" she yelled, even though instinct told her the habitat was empty.

She glanced at the pouch in her hand and for an instant was tempted. There were two others just like it in the vault. But Morgon, canny and ever alert, would never be caught by one of his own substances, and she couldn't do that to him anyway. If he chose not to be in with her, he must have good reason. She would have to be patient.

She didn't doubt that if he was on Pallas Four, he was probably in the city at that moment, disguised and unrecognizable, fraternizing with the tourists, possibly even with Mariltar warriors, some of whom might know him. Yet unbelievable as it was, she had other things to worry about right then. Morgon would have to

wait.

Alerik had been easier to get rid of than she had thought it would be. In fact, she hadn't had to do anything. After he had pried Makiee's name out of her on the pretext he was about to kiss her, he had immediately drawn back, his face an expressionless mask, all heat and sensual promise vanished, and declared he had to go inspect the progress of the governor's office.

She had no idea how long he would be gone, and she had lingered here too much time as it was. Back aboveground in the main habitat, she headed to deploy the drug on the ID pad at the front entrance, the first thing Alerik would be forced to touch when he returned. Her personal comm trilled. The communication's origin was Janas Corporation.

"Yes?" she responded without breaking stride.

"Maegan, I'm having one of those alternate universe kind of days." Makiee sounded quite cheerful.

"Not now, Makiee. I'm in the middle of something." She reached the entrance of the habitat.

"Can't wait. See, I'm just here in the building doing my job, trying to stay focused and only being slightly distracted because those ninco's, Shal-el and Bortock, are having a totally lunar day, and have everyone going a little crazy, when I get this call."

About to open the door, Maegan froze. Sliek! Alerik had gotten to him already. She hadn't expected it to happen so quickly.

"Maegan? Are you there?" Makiee no longer sounded quite so cheerful. "I've been summoned... Summoned to Pallas Five, to an inquisition by the governor's council. I haven't done anything." His voice rose in pitch to rival the siren going off in her head.

"It's all right, Makiee. I'm sorry, I should have told you. I--"

"You knew about this?"

"Yes, I just didn't think it would happen so quickly. They just want to ask a question or two about your expertise in...something."

"My expertise in what?" Makiee had gone from panicked to belligerent. "This doesn't sound like a friendly chat. Crying Creds, these are Mariltar warriors. I don't tolerate excruciating pain well."

"Makiee, they don't torture people. They--"

"We were on opposite sides during the Great Conflict, you know. I bet they still have a score or two to settle against us Bogasills."

Maegan leaned her head against the cool wall and took a deep breath. "You

weren't even born during the Great Conflict. Nor were most of them. Why would they have a score to settle? And I'm Mariltar too, you realize."

"Half, half. You've got some of that weird, alien Earth blood in you that makes you human and not so...scary."

"Oh, Makiee." He was so young, so very young and had grown up on the bloody tales and lore of the Great Conflict. "I'm so sorry. All they want is to ask you about disabling security systems."

"Heh? Why?"

"Because I sort of...disabled one of theirs."

"Outstanding! You've always been my hero."

In her mind's eye, Maegan could see Makiee strutting around Research and Development, all concern erased.

"Here's an opportunity for Janas Corporation. This could be really big, Maegan, huge in fact. Most of their technology is so old and ineffective, we could--"

Maegan laughed. "Makiee, you're such a mercenary. Just don't let them hire you away as a security consultant or you will see the Mariltar side of me. When do you have to go?"

"Tomorrow, first thing."

"Do you want me to go with you?" She didn't want to. Sleep held much more appeal, but she had to make the offer. She was also beginning to wonder if the drug she held in her hand was necessary after all. Perhaps Alerik would return to Pallas Five and not to the habitat. He hadn't exactly informed her of his schedule.

"Nah. I can handle it. Should be fun." Youth's confidence had returned together with its sense of indestructibility. And Makiee could handle it, Maegan had no doubt.

As she stepped outside the entrance to the habitat, she pictured Makiee rambling utter nonsense about the latest in communication technology to the glaze-eyed security team. She almost pitied them.

A chuckle, about to erupt from her lips, died a sudden death as she stared at the small ID pad hidden in the outer wall. Chills chased down her spine. Morgon's habitat was the most secure building on Pallas Four. Only she and Morgon had access, and only she and Morgon could authorize others to access the building.

How then had Alerik Mariltar gained entrance? Who had authorized his access? And why hadn't the questions even crossed her mind until now?

Chapter 10

Margaine Confluence:/Fifth Rising Eighth Sector near Achien

"There are six?"

"Six," the gray-haired relay runner confirmed. "The youngest I've ever seen. Something's going on. The number of shipments is increasing. There are more packages and they're younger than ever."

"What's our salvage rate?"

"Can't keep up." The man's voice was heavy with gloom. "We're only capturing one in seven shipments or so. And those are the ones we know about."

"Do all their shipments still have the same destination?" Maegan accepted the manifest from the runner and punched in her identification before giving it back.

"Same planet; two different locations. They're splitting the younger ones off."

"Blazing starpits!" Maegan muttered. "How do we get this stopped?"

"Politicos don't seem to care worth a shartung, or believe their precious Treaty could be in jeopardy. It's easier to preserve an illusion. Doesn't seem to matter it's the children who suffer."

Rage burned a sour hole in Maegan's stomach as she watched the transfer between star vessels. "They're building a slieking army again, aren't they?"

"Appears so."

"How can the Coalition be so blind?"

"Tell you what I think." The runner hawked and spat. "Taragon sends puppets, who have political savvy, to the Council and to Treaine, but who don't have a clue what's really going on with their own home world. It's those blood-hungry priests who are the real power. Annihilate them and that'll take care of the problem."

The hair rose on her nape and the last of the small bundles disappeared inside her vessel.

"But what do they want? Surely they don't think they can take on a unified galaxy?"

The runner spat again. "Freak fanatics every last one of them. The Coalition was right to outlaw them. It's not religion they practice, it's genocide. Blood builds their power base. Doesn't really matter where it comes from either."

"How--" Maegan stopped herself. Runners didn't ask personal questions. They were anonymous to each other--no names, lower faces obscured by masks. This man's race was difficult to determine, but he spoke as if he'd had experience with the once-powerful, and feared, clan of Taragon priests. Eight times she had met with him to transfer Taragon children, and this was the most he'd ever spoken.

"Time to move on," the man said abruptly. He turned to his vessel, then swung back. "Won't be here next time. Was tagged by a Mariltar patrol at Achien. Have to lie low for a while and get some repairs done. Someone will take my place."

It took Maegan several moments to recover from her shock. "Wait!" she called after him. "Are you sure it was a Mariltar patrol?"

"No doubt." The man didn't pause and his voice was muffled as he made his way up the ramp to his ship. "They transmitted the code of the Seventh Fleet. Watch yourself!"

Starpits! What was Alerik's command doing this far out from the Grogon Asteroid Belt? There had been no sign of them whatsoever on the way here.

Time for her to leave too. The barren landing pad, on an equally barren planetoid, afforded no cover. Achien wasn't that far away. She had suspected for some time that the relay runner had been a fighter pilot in his younger days, for which faction during the Great Conflict, she had no idea, and didn't want to

know. At this moment, she would have been far more interested in the knowledge of how he'd evaded an elite warrior team.

If he had.

Starpits! She hurried up the ramp of the Lady Melia. If she got caught, Alerik Mariltar would... What would he do to his bonded mate? She shuddered. It didn't bear thinking about.

Inside the vessel's entry compartment, six small faces, one slightly older than the rest, turned to her. Terror and grief lurked in stifled sobs and huddled forms.

The older child was different. He or she stood straight, swathed in a cloak that covered him from head to toe as the others were, and slightly in front of them as if protecting them.

Her heart contracted painfully. They should be with loving parents in the safety and security of their own homes, not on a strange star vessel, half a galaxy away, on the last leg of a journey to a future with strangers. The worst part was, it was often those loving parents who had given them up to a far worse future than they now faced.

"Welcome," she said in the universal language, as she secured the door. "No one will harm you here."

There was not a flicker of reaction. It was always the same. Another Treaty

condition broken. Another piece of the dream lost to the arrogance of nationalistic purity. If Taragon didn't teach its children to communicate with the rest of the galaxy, how could true unification ever be achieved?

She swung her arm toward the enger compartment, visible through one of two inner doors. "Come," she said. "We must leave. You must put on safety harnesses." Her sense of urgency was growing. The runner's disclosure had truly disturbed her and the hair on her nape still hadn't subsided.

She had three of the children, trembling and shrinking away from her, strapped in, when a small voice said, "Where do you take us?"

She straightened and turned. The older child had helped the other two and now stood, cloak hood thrown back, small arms folded in a strangely adult gesture of defiance. The long braided hair was a dead giveaway. Boy, then. Taragon females kept their heads bald.

"How do you know this language?"

"My parents taught it to me. Where do you take us?"

"To safety. To people who will care for you."

Something was definitely not right. Internal alarms were raising a furious clamor in her head.

The small features twisted. "My parents gave me to a man who would care for me and teach me important things. His ship was attacked. We were taken from him. You are not Taragon."

How did she explain to an amazingly articulate and observant child that she was trying to give him his childhood back, a childhood his parents and his nation were only too willing to sacrifice? She went on her knees before him, so her face was on a level with his, but didn't try to touch him.

"I promise you," she said, as she gazed into his amber eyes that seemed strangely independent of one another and unfocused, "that I will deliver you to a safe place, to people who will care for you, who will teach you many good things."

He was unconvinced and, for a moment, it looked as if he might argue. He opened his mouth, but then he glanced at the others who watched with anxious expressions. "May I sit with you in the front?"

It was an unexpected and surprising request, one she badly wanted to refuse. But what could it hurt? He was too young to understand the nav charts, and she was too experienced to be distracted. So she agreed.

She was the third in a relay of four runners. She had a relatively short, but obstacle-filled stretch between the barren planetoid and Ochmantin, a lightly populated, heavily forested much larger planet surrounded by quarks, where she would deliver the children to the last runner. The route was familiar, the obstacles well-known. She had never had to worry about patrols in the area before. This time she checked her instruments frequently.

But the Lady Melia's sophisticated nav instruments gave no warning of other vessels in her proximity. The complete lack of traffic in itself was beginning to give her cause for concern when a large cargo vessel headed in the other direction blipped onto the edge of the chart.

The boy--Nonon, he said his name was--watched her every move with those disconcertingly unfocused eyes. He didn't chatter, for which she was grateful, didn't even seem curious about where they were headed. That brief moment of objection earlier seemed to have given way to a heart-breaking sort of resignation over a future adults not of his kind had decided for him.

Ochmantin was in sight, but still a distance away, when she turned on the open comm channel. Two vessels were visible on her nav chart, small craft, planet drifters most likely. There was some intermittent chatter wafting across the channel and then, suddenly, clearly, "Light winds at the surface. Light winds at the surface. Clear for landing. Clear for landing."

Without a nanonan's hesitation, her fingers tapped in course corrections that turned the Lady Melia away from Ochmantin. Heart pounding, focus sharpened by the adrenalin rush through her blood, she studied the nav charts again. One of the drifters had begun a descent to the planet. The other had vanished. There was nothing else. No sign at all that a trap had been set. And just for a moment she doubted herself. But the transmission was a warning. With each mission, with each approach to this place where she discharged her precious cargo, she had anticipated hearing it. Now she had. She couldn't afford to question it.

She was far from Ochmantin. The beat of her heart had slowed and the sweaty dampness had cooled on her skin, when she realized what she had to do. She glanced at the child. He sat alert and calm beside her, and still watched her every move with those strange eyes.

She had never liked the contingency plan, had hoped to never use it. Now she had no choice. Their route had been compromised. All communication had gone silent. Until a new plan could be formed, Morgon's hidden habitat was the only answer.

She set a course for Pallas Four.

The starfighters came out of nowhere and caught her on her descent to the smart dock.

* * * *

Alerik came awake suddenly, wrenched from a deep sleep by a persistent noise. Disoriented, he stumbled from bed, trying to fight off unusually stubborn dregs of unconsciousness.

"Yes?" he snapped at the flashing light on the console beside the sleeping platform.

"It's Sharm. I'm outside your front door."

Blood of Cor! Outside, the moon-sun painted Pallas Four in shades of gray. Grogon's two suns wouldn't make an appearance for a while yet. Nothing good had brought his second all the way to his door from Pallas Five.

"Be right there," he croaked. What was wrong with him? He felt like he'd been clobbered hard with a samclub or... Drugged. He tugged on some loose pants. "Lumens."

It had to be something to do with Maegan. Dread rose fierce and hot within him as he paused outside her door. At least she was safe and sleeping. He had checked on her after returning to the habitat. Been tempted, in fact, to climb into bed with her as she lay, blonde hair unbound and shimmering across her pillow, her face smoothed into soft innocence by sleep. Instead he had set tiny shrieker devices at all the exits to the habitat as well as to her room. If she'd tried to go anywhere, he and the security team posted around the habitat would have known about it.

He disarmed the shrieker at the front door and released the lock. As soon as the door was open, Sharm strode past him with barely a glance. Not good.

"Took you long enough," he mumbled. "Have you been popping outers again?"

"Of course not. Why would you think that?" It was strange how everything inside of him had converged into an intent sort of waiting watchfulness. No doubt about it. Sharm had bad news to deliver. He was pacing, his gaze everywhere but on Alerik.

Alerik braced his legs and folded his arms. Leadership had taught him patience but, when it came to Maegan, patience was extremely tough to summon.

"I was standing out there, leaning on the comm for nans before you responded, that's why." Sharm stopped in mid pace, pivoted and strode straight for Alerik.

"Huh," he grunted as he stared into Alerik's eyes. "She drugged you. Wonder what she used that you weren't aware of it."

"What are you...? Balls of Sortor!" The waiting calm inside him shattered to let out a host of demons. Some hurled gleeful taunts. Others shrieked with terror. He was down the hall and at Maegan's door before he knew it. He barely ed to disarm the shrieker. Ignoring Sharm's snort behind him, he slammed his hand on the door release, already knowing what he was about to find.

The room was empty.

"Where is she?" he asked with absolute calm, even as the demons inside of him went crazy.

"We have her in custody."

"How?"

Sharm let out a gusty breath. "Let's go sit down, Alerik."

Without moving, he said through gritted teeth, "Is she all right?"

"She's fine."

The demons receded, to lurk in the shadows of his head and heart. He followed Sharm back down the hall to the great room, his mind doing a crazy dance with conjecture and theory.

Sharm didn't dissemble. As soon as Alerik sat down, he said, "We caught her on her descent to Pallas Four. We have her space vessel, Alerik. We think it's the same one that evaded us before. And she had engers on board."

An ugly specter materialized in Alerik's head. He crushed it immediately. Whatever Maegan was up to, she could never be involved in the flesh trade. "What kind of engers?"

"Children. Taragon children." Sharm had not sat down. He stood relaxed but watchful to one side.

"Blood of Cor!" Alerik leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut for a nan. He forced himself to take some deep breaths. She was involved in the flesh business. Yet he knew with unshakeable certainty it was not for profit. "That untraceable transmission that was sent to at least three elders on the Coalition Council was true then."

"Perhaps. Maybe so," Sharm agreed. "Here's something else. The patrol in the eighth sector came close to catching another vessel near Achien."

"What does that have to do with Maegan?"

"She's not working alone, Alerik. She couldn't make the entire trip from Taragon herself."

Alerik nodded. "A network--of course. And how deeply is Morgon involved, I wonder?"

"The uncle? That's a leap."

"Not at all. She's using his habitat and vessel. He's the brains behind some very sophisticated technology. One thing I do know is I'll tear this habitat apart by if I have to, in order to find how she gets out without triggering any alarms. Has she said anything yet?"

"No. We have her in a cell in the security hall."

A great calm took hold of him then, and a conviction that from this, whatever this turned out to be, they could make a beginning. At least she was safe.

"Best place for her. Make sure she gets some proper food. No nutro tablets. And sleep. Give her an inducer if you have to. Where are the children?"

"I enlisted the help of Counselor Tipon and his wife. They agreed to care for them in the short term. They're Soron and they'll be discreet. This has the makings of a very ugly political incident."

Alerik nodded. So many obstacles. So many complications. So many nuances and challenges. Amazing he didn't feel more concern. A huge yawn took him by surprise.

"I'll want to inspect that vessel Maegan was using."

He rose to his feet and hitched up his pants. The demons had gone silent. His mind was quiet. His body demanded rest.

"See what tricks Morgon is using. Maybe we can adapt some of them to our patrol vessels." He yawned again. "Sorry, have to go get more sleep. Can't seem to keep awake."

He started off down the hall.

"What about Maegan?" Sharm called after him.

"What about her? She's where she should be. Don't let anyone near her. I'll interrogate her myself when I'm ready."

* * * *

Maegan rested her hand on the comm and left it there. They couldn't keep

ignoring her. She had rights. Someone had to talk to her. She just hoped that someone wasn't the governor of Grogon.

Without warning, the thick plexiwall in front of her changed from opaque to clear. A tall, slender man with the face of a god, dressed in the dark gray of a commander's uniform, stood on the other side. She recognized him instantly.

"Commander Foster!"

"Counselor Shale," he acknowledged, his voice cool, his face expressionless. "You've been causing quite a disturbance."

She'd had Sharm Foster for one rotation at the academy. He'd been one of her favorite instructors and was certainly a man for whom she'd built up a great deal of respect. For the first time since she'd been caught and incarcerated, a twinge of nervousness began to expand inside of her. She wished she were facing anyone but him, with the exception of course of Alerik. She had no choice but to brazen it out.

"Post Conflict Treaty codes say I have a right to talk with representation. What have I been charged with anyway? No one's told me anything. No one's been near me since I was placed here, without being charged I might add."

With the exception of an eyebrow that had hitched higher on his face, Commander Foster's expression didn't change. "Oh, believe me, there are a host of charges against you. It's going to take a while for any legal representative to sort through them. We'll give you access in good time, after you've eaten." He inclined his head at a packaged meal that had been delivered through the

pressure tube, and which she had ignored. "And after you've had some rest. How long have you gone without sleep?"

"It doesn't matter," she snapped, suddenly irritated and uncaring. This man worked for Alerik, it was clear. "I want to see someone now!"

"No." He moved a step closer. "Until you do what we want, you don't get what you want."

Exhaustion was getting the better of her patience. "He knows I'm here, doesn't he? All right, I want to see him."

That wasn't true, but she had others to think of beside herself.

Her tone had caused Commander Foster's other eyebrow to the first. Clearly disapproving, he said, "He'll see you when he's ready and not before. Eat and get some sleep, Maegan. Then we'll begin a dialog."

The wall began to turn opaque. "Wait," she screamed. "Where are the children?"

Sharm Foster turned and began to walk away. "Safe."

"You can't send them back to Taragon." Panic was clawing through the exhaustion, the fear, the anger.

He did pause at that and turned his head. "They belong with their parents."

"No! No, their parents don't want them. You can't send them back. Please," she pleaded with every atom of her soul.

The man lacked a heart. He shook his head and began to move away again. "That's not your decision to make."

The wall was solid again. She couldn't see him. "I demand to see Governor Mariltar," she cried.

"Eat. Get some sleep," came the answer.

She had never felt so ineffective and helpless in this blank world in which they had placed her without the means to communicate. They had relieved her of everything but her clothes. They'd even taken her boots. Her head pounded. Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, her body tense and aching. Hunger prowled through her stomach. She ignored it all.

Somehow she had to convince them the children couldn't go back to Taragon.

She pressed her hand over the comm again.

Chapter 11

Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising Pallas Five

In Sharm Foster's office, Alerik winced as the comm began its muted buzz again.

"Stubborn," Sharm observed as he walked in the door.

"That's putting it kindly."

"All that remains to be seen is which of the two most stubborn people in the galaxy will win this skirmish."

Alerik snorted as Sharm dropped into his chair and reached to turn down the noise of the comm. "What skirmish? I have the advantage of time. She's desperate to learn the fate of the children. She'll yield sooner rather than later."

Sharm snickered. He leaned back and propped his booted feet on the console. "Perhaps, if it weren't for an interesting phenomenon I've observed recently."

Alerik didn't particularly want enlightenment on any of his second's observations. Especially if they concerned Maegan. But he wasn't likely to get a choice either.

Sharm linked his hands behind his head and spoke to the ceiling. "Yes, indeed. Interesting phe-nom-e-non all right." He snickered again.

"Well, then." Alerik rose abruptly to his feet. He could no longer hear the buzz of the comm. "I'll leave you here to contemplate your interesting phenomenon. Fill me in another time. I have to prepare for an arbitration session."

"We'll be debriefing the Soron from Janas Corporation shortly," Sharm told him with a grin. "Shall I inform him his esteemed leader is in a holding cell, buried so far under an avalanche of charges, it's going to be rotations before she can direct the corporation again?"

"Of course not," Alerik snapped, fully aware Sharm was toying with him, but irritated nonetheless. His words came uncomfortably close to the current reality of the situation. "As far as they, and anyone else, are concerned she's been called to other duties temporarily. She's my wife. I'm the governor. That won't be so hard to believe."

"Depends on how well they know Maegan," Sharm told the ceiling, that infernal smirk still stamped on his face.

There was a reason for Sharm's baiting, but Alerik had neither the time nor the patience to have it out with him. He stepped out the back door of Sharm's office into the corridor. For a nanonan, he considered turning to the left and Maegan's

cell, only steps away, driven by a compelling need to see for himself that she was all right.

He forced himself to turn in the other direction. He was due in arbitration chambers in nans.

Arbitration, the legal resolution to the vast majority of disputes and infractions. The charges against Maegan would not be settled by arbitration in a regional jurisdiction. The charges, brought by her own husband, would take her before the Coalition Council of Nine Nations itself. Maegan had violated the basic tenets of the post-war peace Treaty.

That realization had descended on him with the crushing force of a samlwind after he had woken up, free of the effects of whatever it was she had used to drug him, and read Sharm's report. She had been caught red-handed. Six pieces of evidence were in a safe house on Pallas Three. His duty was to uphold the law. For the first time in his life, he wanted to deny his responsibilities.

And then where would Maegan be?

Arbitration council was quickly finished with. Two petty cases that should never have reached him, and about which he resolved to speak to the referring counselor, and one more serious property dispute.

He dealt with a few other pieces of pressing business, then strode back to the security hall. A grim-faced Sharm was observing an interrogation.

Alerik ed him in front of the plexiwall barrier dividing the two rooms. "The Bogasill from Janas Corporation?" he asked. "You're still working on him?"

"I swear I'm ready to incarcerate the entire company. They're troublemakers. This youngster had way too much fun messing with our communications team. Took us two hanans to figure out he was feeding us utter nonsense."

"Who are the other interrogators?"

"Saroch recommended them. Experts from Wiretech Corporation, a Janas client. Since they've worked with the newer technology, we thought they might be of assistance in sorting out truth from exaggeration and pure batgoo."

Maegan's influence? Had to be. Irritation snaked through him, even as his thoughts tried to linger on how she was doing. In the interrogation room, the young Bogasill sketched a three dimensional diagram on the holovid with a laser pointer. The Wiretech experts and the two of his own communications team appeared relaxed. Heads were nodding.

"Is he cooperating now?"

"Appears to be. We're not asking him to reveal patented technology secrets. We just want to understand where our security technology is weak."

One of the men on his team looked in their direction and raised a brow. Sharm touched a control, which instantly converted the plexiwall to two-way visibility,

and knocked hard on the barrier. The young Bogasill jerked around. His gaze focused on Alerik. His eyes widened and his already pale ivory skin noticeably lightened a shade. He turned quickly back to the holovid and adjusted something.

"What was that about?"

"A persuasive technique I use when he isn't cooperating."

"Huh! Anything to do with children and monsters?"

"Sort of."

"And I'm the monster?"

"Worked, didn't it? You're timing is impeccable, by the way."

"I feel sorry for your future children. Just hope this doesn't show up on my docket as a torture charge. You're on your own. I'm going to check on Maegan."

"Alerik!" Sharm's sharp tone stopped him as he turned. The expression on his second's face was tense and serious. "We cannot hold those children much longer without notifying the authorities on Taragon."

"I'm aware of that. Give me some time with her."

"For the record, I don't think you should be conducting her interrogation."

About to turn away again, Alerik paused. The fact that Sharm was right just aggravated the present volatility of his emotions, but no one--no one--else was going to do this. Tension arced in the air between them.

"Noted," he bit out. He forced himself to unclench his hands. "The entire session will be on record. You're welcome, of course, to observe."

"I'll do that." Sharm wasn't budging. He had Alerik's back again but, for once, Alerik couldn't find it in himself to appreciate it.

As he strode down the corridor to Maegan's cell, his thoughts roiled around how he was going to get her out of this mess. There were several solutions. None were legal. All would be at the expense of his own career and everything he had worked a lifetime to achieve.

And that, he knew, was what had Sharm so concerned.

* * * *

When the door to her cell slid open to it the all too imposing bulk of Alerik Mariltar, Maegan was sitting up, still groggy from what she had just figured out

was a drug-induced sleep.

"You drugged me," she accused. Her voice cracked and broke. Not the smartest way to start off a dialog with the man who had her in the worst situation possible. Her head was pounding and she dropped it into her hands, seeking relief while she tried to gather her thoughts.

"You drugged me," he countered, "with far more nefarious purpose. And it was a highly controlled substance, whose use is permitted by and licensed to only a few select groups. Which leads to the question of how you have access to it. Tell me, Maegan, where is Morgon Trion these days?"

"Don't know," she mumbled, relieved she could answer something with complete honesty. She lifted her head, aware that her hair hung loose and tangled and heavy around her face. She made a half-hearted effort to smooth it and push it back. Alerik was dressed in dark blue and tan, perfectly groomed. Did he ever have a hair out of place? She desperately needed a drink and she was starving. Her stomach reinforced the realization with a loud rumble.

It was too much to hope the man who stood, stern-faced, legs braced apart, in front of her, hadn't heard. His eyebrows arched. He glanced at the untouched tray of food and shook his head.

"Resistance at every turn," he murmured, apparently to himself.

"Tell me you won't send the children back to Taragon, and I'll do whatever you want," she snapped without thought.

And of course he wouldn't let that one go. His piercing sapphire gaze pinned her like a bugbat caught in a laser stunblast. There was no softness in it.

"A sweeping concession with interesting possibilities." He moved toward the food. "I only wish I could believe it." He picked up a bowl, studied its contents and set it down. "I have another proposal." He took the plate of flatbread and approached her. "You eat, and answer some questions."

"And?"

He shrugged and offered her the bread. "And what? There's no and."

She surged to her feet, unable to bear the disadvantage of his towering height. She found it only marginally better. The man was too slieking big.

"Why would I answer questions without any assurances about the children?"

There was no emotion in his sapphire eyes. Nothing. They stared back at her with a coolness that caused, for the first time, a major twinge of concern about her own fate. There was no trace of the man who had studied her nudity with such a hungry intensity in the bathing chamber, or of the man who had fed his newly bonded life partner with all the apparent tenderness of a lover.

He was a stranger with the power to destroy her.

"Because your silence won't help their cause or yours. Eat," he commanded her. "And then we'll talk."

The bread tempted her, but she turned her head aside. It was somehow important not to give in on this small point. She didn't trust him, couldn't trust him. His motivation in taking her as his life partner was as impenetrable as the brilliant blue-green fog that rose every morning from the valley floor outside her habitat. The Mariltar culture took marriage very seriously. Life partnerships were rarely dissolved. It was unheard of in the ruling families.

She heard a whisper, a rustle of clothing, the soft thud of his boots. A few steps away. A few steps back. An object scraped along the floor. Then a large, warm hand clasped hers and gave it a hard tug. She sat, startled, with an ungraceful thump on the sleeping platform. He positioned himself on the cell's single chair across from her, holding the tray of food on his lap with one hand.

"Together," he said with uncompromising firmness, "we'll share a meal." He tore the bread and brought a small piece to her lips and, suddenly, his sapphire eyes glowed with comforting warmth.

The change was so dramatic that she opened her mouth automatically and found herself chewing on the soft bread.

He picked up a flask of liquid. Even when she reached to guide it to her mouth, he didn't let it go, but tugged it gently back after she'd taken only a few sips that didn't come close to quenching her thirst and took a few sips himself.

The effects of the sleep drug had all but dissipated, but something far more dangerous was impacting her ability to think clearly. The one sane corner of her mind screamed weakly at her to resist this intimacy, even as the rest of her unbelievably succumbed to the seduction of sapphire eyes and the memory of their mating meal.

She accepted a bite of sourtaln fruit.

You're incarcerated! shrieked her shrinking sanity.

She watched him lick and then bite into the same juice-filled piece.

He put you here, moaned the last vestiges of her resistance.

She allowed him to raise the flask to her mouth again. His eyes never left hers as he took another swallow himself.

He has the children, her conscience cried.

The voices in her head died as food and drink slowly disappeared and not a word was said between them. As Alerik swallowed the last bite of showton noodle, he finally broke eye as he set the tray on the floor. Released from his mesmerizing gaze for a nanonan, Maegan struggled once again to gather her thoughts from the hazy recesses of her mind.

"Maegan," Alerik said softly, as he raised his head. "Where is Morgon Trion?"

His eyes were hard. All traces of the caring life partner had vanished. It was all a façade anyway, but she fought to hide her shock. How could he change so quickly?

"I don't know," she said again, and closed her eyes to center herself, to push aside an unwanted and curious sadness, and welcome back the anger and determination she would need to carry her through the interrogation to come. This cold warrior she could deal with. It was the other man, the one who behaved like a lover, who confused her and drained her will power.

"When was the last time you had with him?"

Yesterday? Was Morgon's recent presence in the hidden habitat considered ?

A lifetime ago, before the change in governorship, before she had become a wife?

She shook her head. "I don't ."

He leaned forward, as if he weren't close enough and already inside her personal space. "All right. Who formed the relay network? How long have you been involved? How many children have you transported?"

The scent of tiug leaf wafted faintly in the air between them. He paused. His lips tightened as she remained silent.

"You'll either talk willingly, Maegan, or we'll extract the information using nectine. Morgon isn't the only one with access to exotic drugs. I can't help you unless you give me information."

"You can't help me at all," she burst out. "I've broken post-war Treaty covenants. I've illegally transported children, abducted them from their kind. There's nothing you can do to help me."

A muscle jumped in his cheek. His eyes darkened. "Tell me why, Maegan."

She knew how this worked, of course, knew that anything she said could and would be used to judge and convict her. She had known the consequences when she had signed on. Had been well warned. But her conscience hadn't allowed her to act any differently. The entire galaxy might turn blind, deaf and dumb to the prospect of a child army because they didn't want to believe that a war fought across generations hadn't taught them the most important lessons of all.

Besides, powerful leaders denied the possibility, and those in power had to be trusted implicitly.

But Maegan had seen the proof. Morgon Trion had recruited his rebellious, academy-trained niece to his cause even before her arrival in the Grogon Belt.

And had warned her. Warned her that her status as daughter to a high-ranking Mariltar official would not protect her if she were caught. Now she wondered with cynical amusement what he would say about her status as wife to an heir of the Mariltar nation. It certainly hadn't stopped her from being incarcerated. By her own husband.

"You won't believe me," she said and dropped her gaze to her hands. It was easier than having to look into those eyes that drilled into her very soul. "The Council didn't believe Morgon."

It was the reason for Morgon's self-imposed exile to the Grogon Asteroid Belt, where he had felt he could attempt some solution on his own.

"I'm not the Council," Alerik said.

His voice sounded softer. Sagar's crystals, she wanted to look at his face, but was afraid that if his eyes matched the quality of his voice, she'd reveal more than she should and be lost.

"Try me."

She curled her fingers into her palms, tempted for a nanonan to lie, but what would be the use? He would know and they would employ nectine to obtain the truth. She wondered why they hadn't just used it to begin with.

"The Taragon high priests," she spat out before she could think it through any

further, "are building their armies again. They're using children. Again."

In the silence that followed, she heard the pounding of her blood through her body, heard her breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps as she waited for...what, she didn't know.

"Those are rumors, Maegan. Unsubstantiated, outrageous rumors. The Treaty eviscerated the power of the high priests. They have no authority outside of their temples. The elders of Taragon lead the nation. I think-- I know they would have informed the Council if they had concerns."

The flicker of hope, if it had even been that, died a swift, certain death. What had she expected? That she would achieve instant acceptance when Morgon hadn't? She dared to raise her face again and uttered a harsh laugh.

"Then what are those six children you have in custody? More unsubstantiated rumors?"

His eyes darkened. "Everyone knows Taragon children are separated early from their parents for schooling. Council have toured those schools. They are what they appear to be. There's no army building going on. The penalty is a most powerful deterrent."

"How naÏve can you be? Of course those were the legitimate schools. Of course there's no army building going on there. Do you know that Taragon is a society of throw-away children?"

Rage and panic threatened to overwhelm her. Where was Morgon? She couldn't do this on her own. Even to her, it sounded far-fetched--that an entire society could be so corrupt--and she had dealt with the proof.

"Tell me this. Did anyone ask where the third, fourth and fifth born children are schooled? Every child in those schools is a first or second born. They're the lucky ones, allowed to return to their families. Don't tell me that the Taragon elders have no knowledge of any of this."

"Then what happens to the other children?"

"How do you think we get them?" Rage vanished with unexpected suddenness, and into its place crept a tired sadness. At least he was listening. At least it was on record. "We don't enter Taragon airspace. We intercept their vessels well after they leave the Taragon planetary system on their way to planetoids across The Divide."

Alerik gave a brief shake of his head. "Border patrols would have reported any unusual activity. There's been nothing."

"I don't know how they avoid the patrols, but they do. Morgon's been across The Divide. He's seen what's happening on those planetoids."

"Why hasn't he reported it?"

"He said he did." Maegan glanced at his face and looked quickly away. His

expression was too intense with an emotion she couldn't decipher. "He took his report before a Council subcommittee. The Taragon elders denied everything, of course. Morgon was labeled a troublemaker and ordered to stay away from the seventh sector."

"That event should be on record then."

"Maybe."

"Are you suggesting the Council is illegally concealing information that by Treaty covenant should be visible to the public?"

Maegan rubbed her itchy, dry eyes. The drug had left her groggy. "I'm suggesting that a society that doesn't want to be integrated cannot be integrated. I'm suggesting the Council sees what it wants to see. I'm suggesting the Vision is failing."

Chapter 12

Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising Pallas Five

"Anything?" Alerik gladly surrendered the minutia of daily government in favor of listening to Sharm Foster's report. Sharm, his hands sunk deep in his pockets, strolled closer and contemplated his commander, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"The record of Morgon's meeting with the Council is there."

"And?"

"And a report of a voyage across The Divide." Sharm paused again.

"And?" Alerik prompted, making no attempt to mute the sharp impatience in his voice.

"And...nothing. That was it. It was a bland, uneventful log."

"Hardly worth the Council's time."

"Shouldn't have made it past the security review."

Alerik leaned back in his chair. Too many questions. Too many discrepancies. Things just weren't connecting. "Know what I think?"

Sharm nodded. "We need to find Morgon Trion."

"Maegan maintains she has no knowledge of his whereabouts."

"Do you believe her?"

Alerik pushed himself to his feet. "I don't know what to believe with her anymore."

Sharm muttered something under this breath that Alerik didn't catch. It didn't sound complimentary.

"What does your gut tell you?"

"My gut?" His gaze switched to the vid that gave him a view of Maegan's cell. She slept, this time a sleep of pure exhaustion, unenhanced by drugs. One

slender hand was tucked beneath her cheek. A length of silk-gold hair fell into the vee of the tunic that bared her throat. She'd been asleep for several hours and he'd derived some slight comfort from that.

There was no comfort to be had elsewhere. No matter how he analyzed it, he could see no way around the inevitable outcome. Duty required he deliver her to the Council for her crimes. He couldn't fathom how he could do it.

He couldn't fathom how he could not do it.

Unfamiliar emotions boiled in him, tormented him. He had never been so indecisive, so torn. So tempted to deny his destiny.

"Alerik?" Sharm was becoming just as impatient. In all the rotations they had known each other, he couldn't a time with quite as much disagreement between them.

He wrenched his gaze away from the view of the woman whom fate had chosen as his life partner. Sleep lent her the illusion of vulnerability. He had to force himself to she was capable of a heinous betrayal.

"My gut says she has to know something about Morgon. If he is involved in this, why would he apparently abandon her?"

Sharm gave a sharp nod, planted his fists on the console before him, and leaned forward. "Then our course of action is clear."

Alerik fought to contain a swift rise of hot anger, shocked by the volatility of emotions he thought he had learned to control long ago. Instinct told him where Sharm was headed and every cell in his body resisted.

"Nothing is clear. Nothing. I won't--"

"If this were any other prisoner, sir," Sharm snapped, at rigid military attention now, "you'd have delivered the order by now. We're out of time. We have to release those children, and we have to deliver the prisoner to the Council."

Pure ice halos squeezed at Alerik's chest as he stared at the man he'd relied on as his closest friend. With dread, he forced out, "What have you done?"

Sharm's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Blood of Cor, what do you think I've done? Nothing. Yet. I'm trying to protect your back and find the slieking switch to your intelligence and integrity. Ever since we've come to this forsaken wasteland, it's been like watching a ninth dimension vid. I've never seen you behave so consistently out of character."

"Out of character? I slieking took a life partner! My apologies she doesn't meet with your approval, but I don't give a burning starpit. And she's no more above the law than I am."

"Then deliver the order."

"I can't give her nectine. Her body's too fragile."

"The medtech says she can tolerate it. We'll take every precaution. Morgon is key to this whole mess. If she has a clue to his whereabouts, she has to tell us."

"And then what? We have two to deliver to the judgment of the Council?"

Sharm snapped his head sideways and back. "I can't predict the future. All I know is, with those children in custody, you're bound by oath to surrender Maegan. Failure to do so could mean impeachment."

The bright amber of his eyes muted to yellow-gold. "Your course is clear, Alerik. You must let her go. This partnership was a mistake from the beginning. She's not good for you or your career. There may yet be a way to simply dissolve your bond."

Impotent rage and fear roiling in him, Alerik turned back to the vid screen. Maegan still slept, her position unchanged. So vulnerable. Everything in him rebelled at his second's words, except for one small corner of his mind where logic conquered emotion and acknowledged the truth.

"In my family's entire history," he ground out, "a marriage partnership has never been severed. My father came close once. The Match Key determined his partner too. He was ready to let my mother go when he thought she so desperately wanted her freedom from a marriage that was forced upon her. Turns out it wasn't what she wanted. It was Maegan's mother, ironically, who helped him see that."

He rolled his shoulders to ease their tightness and swiveled to face his tormentor again. "I understand what you're saying. I agree with much of it. The Match Key can burn in the fires of Crillac. It's her... It's Maegan. There's this connection, this...thing."

He shrugged. "I don't understand it. What I do know is this. I won't abandon her. Even if she's convicted of treason."

How had it come to this? A choice between a woman and the man with whom he trusted his life? He had always counted on Sharm Foster for wise council, had rarely rejected it. The strength of his opposition was enough to make him doubt himself. Until he looked at Maegan.

"But I pledge this to you. I won't drag you down in this. Your objections and recommendations will be on record."

Sharm quirked an eyebrow. "Not necessary. Just checking."

His military-straight posture dissolved. He retrieved something from his pocket and slapped it down on the console. "All right, then, let's go find the uncle. What's on there," he nodded at the small vidchip, "is the complete design of Maegan's vessel, including materials used. We'll trace the components back to their source and see if that yields anything. We're also trying to retrieve the vessel's erased log. May not work, but it's worth a try." He patted the chip. "Beautiful piece of equipment, by the way. Wouldn't mind taking her out."

"Sagar's sacred crystals," Alerik swore. "You set me up!"

"Wouldn't call it that exactly." Sharm retrieved the chip. His mouth stretched in a caustic grin. "Just wanted to be clear on where we stood. Never really doubted the result. This woman..." He nodded at the image of Maegan. "...has tied you up in so many ways. Can't wait to see what happens next. Work on her, Alerik. We truly do not have much time."

* * * *

Maegan was still asleep when, a hanan later, Alerik responded to his comm.

"Just thought you'd like to know." Sharm sounded almost gleeful. "Time's up. Things are beginning to get interesting. There's a Taragon vessel requesting permission to enter Grogon airspace and dock on Pallas Five. No information on the engers, but the transmittal code indicates a high-ranking political delegation."

"Priests or elders?" Alerik snapped. Blood of Cor, too coincidental. How had they found out?

"Don't know. You'd better clear your schedule, although they've yet to state their business. That's not all."

Sharm's deliberate habit of pausing for dramatic effect was becoming annoying. "What else?"

"Just ahead of them," his second announced cheerfully, "is another illustrious visitor, a Coalition delegate. Already in the process of docking, and has requested an immediate meeting with the governor. He's Commander Tiege of the Mariltar Second Fleet. Know him? I don't recall the name, but he has enough merits to sink a star vessel."

The name tweaked a vague memory, but Alerik was far more concerned about what an unannounced visit from a Coalition delegate portended. He glanced at the image of Maegan one more time, then reluctantly closed off the vid screen. Coalition and Taragon delegates at the same time? Far too coincidental. For a nanonan, he wondered if Sharm had distributed reports without his authority, but the idea was too implausible. Sharm would never deceive him.

Commander Tiege was a large man who, given his age, was obviously a veteran of the Great Conflict. He had silver-cold eyes and wasted no energy in restless movement or time in small talk. Preliminaries over, he refused a seat and stood in the governor's reception room, hands folded in the sleeves of his robe, a great stillness about him.

"You have Taragon children in custody, Governor. You are holding a relay runner, who is part of an illegal network formed to extract these children before they reach their destination across The Divide. I'm sure you're aware of the extreme political sensitivities around this situation. I'm here to relieve you of responsibility for both parties. Be so good as to have them delivered to my vessel immediately."

Stunned and chilled to the bone, Alerik forced himself to ask with a calm politeness he didn't feel, "May I ask where you acquired your information, Commander?"

"Rest assured, there was no breach of security on your side, Governor. We've had operatives watching this particular traffic for a good while."

"Why was I not informed, since Grogon territory is impacted?"

"Grogon was never part of the relay route. This business did not concern you."

Curious. For a nanonan, he consoled himself with the thought they didn't know that the relay runner he held was based here or her identity. The nerve endings running down his spine told him differently. They were beginning to twitch furiously. Always a bad sign.

He made a decision and volunteered, "My patrols captured the runner in Grogon airspace."

"I'm aware." No hesitation. There wasn't even so much as a blink. "You've also sent patrols beyond your airspace, Governor. I would suggest care that you do not overstep your authorities here."

Alerik ground his teeth. There had to be a breach. "I have a human trafficking problem in this system, sir, and dead bodies turning up on a regular basis. I'll send my patrols where I see fit within neutral territory."

"Of course." The man's face was like Soron basalt. "The Council has implicit trust in your leadership, Governor, and does anticipate immediate knowledge of

any activity that impacts the Treaty."

A compliment wrapped around a clear warning. How had the Council learned about the runner and the Taragon children? All vessels encountered in the course of the patrols were logged. Source, destination and cargo were all identified. None had operated under the unique code of the Coalition. None had access to the secure comm links of his security team. An "operative" would have had to have watched the children's capture, then track the runner team all the way to the point Maegan was intercepted by his patrols. A virtual impossibility. He resolved to task Sharm with an audit of the patrol logs.

And to seek out a spy.

"You're aware, Commander, there is a Taragon vessel only a hanan away from docking?"

"Yes." The man had an extraordinary calmness about him. "I hope our business might be concluded before then."

Which included surrendering Maegan to this stranger. How could he? It was an inevitable consequence of her actions that she be turned over to the judgment of the Coalition. He had hoped for more time. He wasn't prepared. He didn't think he ever would be.

Stalling, he said, "Would it not be better to give the children into the custody of the Taragon delegation?"

"It was the Council's decision to take custody. I don't question their judgment." For the first time since he'd entered the reception room, Commander Tiege moved and stepped back with a respectful nod. "Good day, Governor."

There was almost a surreal aspect to the moment. Conflict raged inside him. So many questions. Such a strong urge to defy his orders.

"Then what do I tell the Taragon delegation when they ask for their children?"

"That they are in the Council's custody and to petition the Council." With another bow of his head, Commander Tiege turned and exited the room.

"Balls of Sortor," Alerik muttered. How had he so quickly lost control of the situation?

Had he ever had control?

He strode through to his private office to the console, and opened a link to the head of his security team. It took a few nans for Sharm to respond. Alerik paced in a small circle while he waited. The children he could surrender. There was no choice. He simply couldn't give Maegan up so easily.

"Yes, sir?"

"Took you long enough," Alerik snapped. "We're in the middle of a situation

here. Status of the Taragon vessel?"

"Taking their time with docking. There seems to be confusion over whether they want Pallas Four or Five."

"They're aware of my location?"

"They haven't asked for you. They haven't asked for anyone. If we weren't aware of their probable reason for being here, I'd say they were trying to decide on a recreational venue."

One more mystery to unravel in an increasingly complex problem. "Retrieve the six Taragon children from Counselor Tipon immediately and deliver them to Commander Tiege's vessel. Stand by for additional orders."

"Yes, sir."

Alerik touched the vid screen. Maegan's image appeared on the view. She still lay curled in sleep, achingly vulnerable. This was the hardest task he had ever had to perform in his life. His breath cramped in his lungs. For several nanonans, time hung suspended as he fought an inner struggle.

Then he forced air into his lungs, leaned over and touched the comm link. "Maegan, wake up." He had to repeat himself several times before he saw her stir. Her eyes flickered open. She lifted her head. "Prepare yourself. I'm transferring you to the custody of the Coalition Council."

He didn't know what it was he saw on her face for a fleeting nanonan. Betrayal? Shock? Disbelief? Fires of Crillac, he had never wanted to disavow his chosen life path so much as he did at that moment.

He'd give her five nans before he'd go collect her himself. He closed off the screen and began to pace again. There was a leak somewhere. There had to be. Two disparate parties appeared to have information on the children. His mind worried over the problem, but concern for Maegan kept disrupting his train of thought.

A triple ping came from his console. A distress code. Blood of Cor, what now? Alerik rounded the end of the console to view the screen. Sharm's face, pale and tightly drawn, appeared.

"Yes?"

"It appears, sir, the children may not be with Counselor Tipon."

"Explain." He was in a slieking starpit halo nightmare. If ever there was ninth dimension, this was it.

"Counselor Tipon's wife went to look for them and it seems they are not in the residence, sir."

"How could they not be in the residence? It's a secure compound."

"Yes, sir. We don't know, sir. I have a team headed over there. Should I alert Commander Tiege?"

Alerik paced the length of his console. "Status of the Taragon vessel?"

"In the process of docking on Pallas Five as we speak."

"Sagar's crystals! Yes. Inform Commander Tiege we might have a problem."

It seemed like hanans before Sharm came back on the comm link, excruciatingly slow hanans as he paced and analyzed. Paced, and tried to find some small piece of logic, a clue, in all that had occurred.

"Alerik, we've confirmed the children are gone. We've searched the entire compound. Counselor Tipon's wife is extremely distraught. She's been there the entire time and only left them for a short while to play on their own. There is no possible way they could have left the residence on their own."

"They were abducted?"

"Apparently. We have no proof yet."

He punched a control. A view of Maegan's cell appeared. She sat on the edge of

the sleeping platform, hands folded in her lap. Relief swept through him. For one insane nanonan he had expected her to be involved in this latest debacle.

"Sir?" Sharm's tone was like a laseredge. "Commander Tiege's vessel is preparing to leave the dock. He requests a link."

"He knows the situation, that we can't deliver the children?"

"Yes, sir."

"Put him through."

"Governor." Commander Tiege's voice boomed from the console. "I have an unexpected crisis to deal with and must depart immediately. You have a problem. Once you've solved it, I'll be back."

Hating himself, Alerik forced the question, "The runner?"

"Without the evidence, Governor, why would I take the runner into custody?"

Chapter 13

Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising Pallas Five

"You're free to leave," Alerik pronounced as the door to her cell slid open. His large bulk filled the slim opening. He casually leaned a shoulder against one wall and folded his arms.

"What?" she blurted, not at all sure she had understood him correctly.

"You're free to go." His face held no expression. She didn't think he was prone to callous jokes, but his words made no sense.

"Why?"

One shoulder lifted and fell again. "No evidence."

In an instant, she was on her feet. "What have you done with the children?" she all but screamed.

His lips pulled at one corner and he shrugged himself away from the wall. "Always so ready to assume the worst. I haven't done anything with the children." He narrowed his eyes at her. "In fact, that was a question I had for you. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?"

She realized her mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut. "You've lost the children?"

"Well, no." He stuck his hands in his pockets and braced his feet apart. He seemed remarkably relaxed. "Not lost exactly. We just don't know where they are at this moment."

"You've lost the children!" she said. "How could you not know where they are? What a bunch of incompetent, inept, b--"

"I think I've been thoroughly insulted." Sharm Foster's handsome face appeared over Alerik's shoulder.

"Not really. You cut her off before she could finish," Alerik pointed out. "You probably missed the best part."

About to apologize for words that had been intended for Alerik's ears alone, Maegan stubbornly pressed her lips together and scowled at them mutinously instead. What in starpits was going on?

"Is she leaving?" Commander Foster asked. "I think I'm going to need the cell."

Maegan was more than ready to quit this blank world. She wasn't sure how long she had been incarcerated. It was so easy to lose track of time. But she was highly mistrustful of the motivations of the two men in front of her. They should have been more concerned. More concerned about the children--if they really were missing, which she was beginning to doubt. More concerned about letting her go--they had caught her in an illegal act, after all.

She decided she could puzzle it out later. Now she had to take advantage of opportunity. She strode toward them. Neither one budged. She tilted her head back to look Alerik in the eye. Why was the man so slieking big? "Excuse me."

His sapphire eyes gleamed at her, so beautiful, so devious. "There are conditions to your release."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"Hold out your left arm, please," Sharm requested.

She almost rolled her eyes again, as he snapped a metal bracelet snugly around her wrist. A tracking device. So predictable. Makiee would have it off her in nanonans.

"Is that all? May I leave now? I have work to do."

"Not quite all."

Tiny hairs on Maegan's arms rose to attention at the look of anticipation on Alerik's face.

"You're confined to the governor's compound on Pallas Five."

Blazing starpits! "I can't work from here," she objected.

"We've discussed this before," Alerik said, unyielding. "You'll make it a viable arrangement."

Desperation drove her to argue, "You have my vessel. I can't go anywhere."

Behind Alerik, Commander Foster made a curious noise, which turned into a dry cough.

A muscle jumped in Alerik's cheek. "Unfortunately, my sweet wife, we can't count on that. You've proven yourself highly untrustworthy. You hid one vessel from us. There could be others. We know there are hidden components, and Sagar knows what else, in that habitat of yours.

"We've torn the Lady Melia apart, by the way, and we'll be working on the habitat next. Your corporation is building highly advanced technology, which your staff--loyal to you--appears to have no compunction employing in your aid. Our original arrangement, such as it was, no longer exists. Pallas Four is off limits. I've appointed Mistress Gloriana as interim counselor. She seems quite

competent."

He stepped away from the cell door. "Commander Foster, please accompany my wife to our residence."

"Yes, sir."

She was exchanging one prison for another. Every cell in her body screamed in objection as Commander Foster took her arm and led her down the hall. She knew, this time, it would be much more difficult to evade them. But by far, her greater concern was proximity to Alerik. The look in his eyes as he'd given that order, and used those particular words deliberately, had shaken her to the core.

They turned a corner and she couldn't help glancing back. Her husband had disappeared.

* * * *

Two hanans later she was fuming and frustrated. Nothing she tried worked. She had no access to communications. All the tricks Makiee had taught her were useless. The security system refused to yield and let her out of the habitat. She was as much in the dark about what had happened to the children and why she'd been released as before.

She stood before a plexiwall that overlooked a great courtyard stuffed with exotic flowering shrubs, many of which she didn't recognize. They appeared to

have been selected for the impressive size of their blooms. The serene beauty of the place calmed her in some small measure as she pondered a theory. Could Morgon have had something to do with the children's disappearance? If they were, in fact, really missing? She was convinced he was close by. The clues she'd found in her habitat were unmistakable. She just didn't understand why he had made no attempt to her directly.

She turned impatiently away from the bright exterior view and began to cross the large great room. Something in this place had to offer a clue to her freedom. She was useless here. She had to get out. The bracelet they had snapped on her was going to be a major problem, but it only meant they would know where she was. It didn't mean they would be able to find her.

Alerik had minimalist taste in decorating. The space was merely a showcase for a few absolutely stunning art pieces.

She paused beside a large fantastical sculpture of two entwined merserpas. It was carved from distinctive silvery-teal diabond, a very rare, very hard substance found in natural form on Bogasill. It would have taken the artist rotations to complete.

For a nanonan, she considered hurling it at the plexiwall. There were two problems with the plan. The wall likely wouldn't break and she probably didn't have the strength to lift the piece. She moved on.

Room after room, it was the same. Every console had been locked down and remained completely unresponsive. Makiee had taught the Mariltar security team well. She would have to to compliment him, she thought sourly, as she punched uselessly at the console pads in the sleeping chamber she had once shared with Alerik.

"No luck?"

She whirled around, her stomach clenching. Alerik was propped in the doorway. He looked...tired. Though his posture denoted casualness, there was a strange tension to him. His dark hair was ruffled out of its usual impeccable grooming.

She lifted her chin. "Obviously not, or I wouldn't still be here."

He laughed but there was an edge to the sound. He left the doorway and moved farther into the room. The soft clunk of the door closing behind him caused a dozen little bedring creatures to go crazy in her stomach. This was not where she wanted to be.

"Well," he said. "I know what your day has been like. Would you like to hear about mine?"

"Not really."

"Thought you might." He strolled past her to the plexiwall overlooking the same shrub-filled courtyard the great room did. He took up a spread-legged stance and clasped his hands behind his back.

"I had two delegate visits today. Both demanded two things of me. But sometime in the course of the day, something occurred that made it impossible for me to comply with either demand. You already know what that was, of course.

"But the questions remain. Who took the children and where are they? If you have any idea, Maegan, it would be best to reveal that information."

Chills were chasing in waves across her skin although the room was warm enough. Two delegations? "Where was the second delegation from?" she managed to ask. Even to herself, her voice sounded shaky.

"Where else but Taragon? A delegation of high priests. They were most insistent."

"How did they know?" she whispered. "They couldn't possibly have traced the relay route. It's...it's just not possible."

"Curious, isn't it?" Alerik turned. "How did the Taragon delegation know? How did the Coalition Council know?" The natural light behind him blurred his features. "There are several explanations, of course, none of which are pretty, but what everyone, without exception, is most interested in now, Maegan, is where the children are."

"I don't know." For some reason, Morgon's hidden underground habitat chose that instant to pop up in her mind. If Morgon had taken the children, that would be a logical place to hide them. Alerik's security team still hadn't discovered its existence and the place was well shielded from external sensors. But that secret wasn't hers to reveal.

"You may not know." Alerik approached her and stopped far too close. "But I

think you have ideas. Did it occur to you they might be in danger?"

Maegan blinked and nodded, then looked away from the intensity of his sapphire gaze. "I don't really think they are," she said quietly. "I...I think Morgon might have them." Morgon, who would do everything in his power to save her from judgment by the Coalition Council. And she might just possibly have betrayed him with her confession. She had betrayed him.

"Morgon," Alerik repeated. His fingers touched her chin, pressed, turned her face to him. "And you have no idea where he is?"

"No, I don't."

He was cupping her chin now, and she was powerless to look away from his hypnotic gaze.

He studied her face. His gaze deliberately moved over it, and it was as if he physically touched--caressed--each feature.

"Green Eyes," he murmured, "you are such a liar." His thumb brushed across her lower lip. Sensation, unwelcome and uncontrollable, tingled through her body. "I have until late day tomorrow to produce the youngsters. After that... Who knows? Taragon priests are not known for their patience or ivity."

"You can't give them back to the priests," she forced out. "You can't."

"A moot issue, since I don't have them." Again, his thumb brushed her lower lip, a touch that compelled and drew her gaze to his. His eyes were dark, shimmering pools, promise and seduction all mixed together, yet so untrustworthy. For a moment, she gave in to the luxury of wondering what it would be like to be seduced by Alerik, to have his hands touch more than her chin, his thumb brush more than her lip. Perhaps she should just do it. It might quell this odd brew of restlessness and surging urgency. And the intimacy would mean nothing because she wouldn't allow it to.

His thumb paused in stroking her lip. His eyes flared with a sudden awareness. His body leaned in to barely touch hers, spreading heat and an unbearable tension.

"Green Eyes," he murmured, "you keep looking at me like that and I won't be responsible for my actions."

She teetered on the edge. Could she control this? Or would she be completely lost? As she raised a hand to rest it on the solid wall of his chest, she spared a ing thought for how this decision would impact her plans to end the marriage partnership.

Make it harder certainly. Mariltar marriages were not easily dissolved, especially in the ruling families. But nothing was impossible, and at this moment, as Alerik's groan thrilled her and bound her even closer, even before his other hand slid across her hips, she truly didn't care.

He rested his forehead against hers as he gathered her closer against his body. His breath, warm and scented with sweet tiug leaf, drifted across her face.

She closed her eyes and surrendered to her senses and her body's demands. She wanted this. She needed this. There would be a price to pay.

It could very well destroy her.

The single insistent refrain beating in the back of her mind to stop this now was shattered as his hand on her lower back urged her tightly against him. There was no doubt what Alerik Mariltar wanted and needed. His other hand found a spot on her nape that collapsed her knees and drowned the last vestige of reason. And so she was malleable and mindless when he angled her head and brought his lips to hers--a light touch, soft and fleeting, a tease, a taste. Then he drew back. In disbelief, she heard herself whimper.

In the next nanonan, before she had time to draw another breath, he was back and, this time, he devoured.

His mouth pressed to hers, his tongue slid along the crease, demanding she open. And when she did, heat and sensation invaded her. She was lost. She couldn't possibly stop this from proceeding to the inevitable conclusion. She wanted it too badly. Had wanted it for a long, long time. Ever since he had invaded her life. The future had no place here, filled as it was with a deep uncertainty.

Committed, she slid her hands over his broad shoulders. She met the thrust of his tongue and pushed against him, reached up and grabbed a thick handful of his hair.

His mouth left her lips and traveled across her cheek to lightly brush her eyelid, then across to her ear where his tongue began a leisurely exploration of a rim

that had suddenly developed an ultra sensitivity.

Nose buried in his neck, her cheek rubbed against the soft prick of end of day stubble. Those tiny prickles fed and intensified the excitement racing though her body. Everywhere he touched, nerve endings were set ablaze. Then he slid his hand over the curve of her bottom and between her legs and lifted her up against him. His finger, through two layers of clothing pressed on her right there.

Suspended in air, she clutched at his hair and shoulder to anchor herself, and in what was left of her fragmented thoughts, she wondered if it were possible to have an orgasm on the spot.

"Too many clothes," he murmured in her ear. "They have to come off." He lowered her to the floor.

As soon as she steadied herself on her feet, she reached for the flap on his tunic and yanked. She had him bare-chested in nanonans while he stood, arms at his sides, simmering sapphire gaze hooded and focused on her. A thrill of unbearable excitement seized her. She reached for the waistband of his breeches.

His hand flashed out and closed around her wrist. Disappointed and confused, she instinctively tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip. He held her as he shifted to toe off his half boots and push them aside. He loosened his grip on her wrist, anchored her hand at his waist and let her go.

Excitement roared back in a heady rush. She stepped a breath closer. Deliberately, she moved her hand down across the thick ridge of him.

He bared his teeth. Sapphire turned to dark midnight. She squeezed gently. He grunted and narrowed his eyes.

"Two nans," he ground out.

"For what?" She stretched up and licked slowly across his lips. Some small part of her was amazed at her boldness. She was playing a dangerous game in more ways than one. She didn't want it to end.

He seemed to be having difficulty with a response. A groan rumbled from deep in his throat. She licked across his lips again, then paused to draw his lower lip into her mouth. Her hand rubbed at his straining erection.

"Time's up," he rasped, and it was no warning at all. He grabbed her around her waist and, as if she weighed nothing, bore her in three long strides to the sleeping platform. He tossed her down. When she bounced back up, indignant at having her play interrupted, he pointed a long finger at her.

"Stay!"

He reached for the fastening of his breeches. On her knees, she paused, purpose arrested, and watched in fascination as he jerked open his pants, hooked his thumbs at the waist and stripped them down his legs.

Her mouth went dry. Her clothes felt three sizes too small and far too heavy for

the sudden heat in the room. A tiny thread of reason screamed that there was no way she could walk away from this, emotions intact. No way this could be just a casual sexual encounter that meant nothing.

He was beautiful. A quintessential, highly aroused, barely controlled male creature.

An urge to flee overwhelmed her.

"No," he said. He reached down and cupped his balls, then casually stroked his hand up his penis. "Take off your boots."

In a daze, she saw her hand dropping her boots over the side of the platform, before she was aware she had even moved to comply with his command.

He jerked his head. "The rest."

She hesitated. The clothes were her last defense. Her body wasn't pretty. She was scarred and skinny. But he had already seen all that, and it was clear it didn't matter.

His eyes narrowed and he growled. She focused on that slow stroking hand and shed her tunic, then the vest underneath. Her torso now bare, she shivered, even though the room still felt unbearably hot.

The flare of pure predatory awareness in his eyes caused her nipples to tighten and her womb to clench. His hand stilled.

"Finish," he ground out.

Her courage wavered. "Lights?" she dared to ask.

"No." He stepped closer.

Heat and tension spiraled. She couldn't bear it. Without further thought, she wriggled her pants down over her hips, and stripped them off her legs.

He knelt beside her, his breath heavy. He curved his hand around her breast, tightened his grip and swiped his thumb across her nipple. Prickles of sensation exploded out from the spot. He no longer looked at her face, but focused intently on her breast. Then his attention shifted. His fingers uncurled. He brushed them across the raw scar on her bicep. His browns drew together and he muttered something she didn't catch.

In the next nanonan she was on her back, angled across the sleeping platform. His hands swept down her body, across her breasts, across her stomach, over the vee of legs, down her thighs to her ankles. He grasped each ankle and moved her legs far apart, maneuvered himself between them. Spreading his knees, he forced her legs even farther apart, and lowered himself over her.

With a gentle hand he pushed her hair off her face, and ran a finger across the

seam of her lips.

She closed her eyes. His sapphire gaze was too intense.

As his finger made its gentle journey again, she opened her lips and sucked it into her mouth. She rasped her tongue across the blunt edge of his nail and discovered a callous near his knuckle. His skin was smooth/rough. His finger, long and thick, filled her mouth. She drew it in farther, sucked harder. She could no longer hold her hands ive at her sides. The urge to feel, to touch was too intense. She smoothed them across his hips. His breath, more labored now, fanned across her face. She didn't dare open her eyes.

Primitive instinct and aching desire drove her to run her hands down his belly, to find his aroused flesh. He seemed in no hurry now, yet her body burned, begged for completion. She encircled the hard length of him with both hands. When he tried to withdraw his finger from her mouth, she clamped down on it.

Searing heat enveloped her as he lowered himself to touch chest to breast, groin to groin, trapping her hands between them. He nuzzled under her ear. The scrape of his teeth, against a place she had never paid attention to before, made her arch up against him and release her hold on his finger as her mind drowned in a flood of pleasure.

He stayed to torment the tender flesh below her ear until she writhed beneath him and was forced to clutch at his hips to anchor herself. Slowly he slid down and positioned himself over her breasts. He seemed fascinated with them and content to thoroughly explore with his hands.

All the while the tension in her body escalated. His penis lay hot and hard across her thigh. No matter how much hip wiggling she did, she couldn't seem to get herself in the right position.

When he lowered his head and licked her nipple, she almost surrendered to his lead, the rush of sensation was so intense. In one last desperate attempt, she placed her hands on his chest and shoved. He went over on his back with a surprising lack of resistance.

She followed, flinging her leg across his hips to straddle him. As she rose above him, a heady euphoria rushed through her veins.

He watched her through narrowed eyes, compliant for now, as she reached down and slid her hand around his hard length to position him. His entry into her body was not easy. It had been a long time for her, and he was large.

His brows pinched together as she struggled to force the plump head of his shaft past her tight entrance.

"Easy, love," he murmured. He palmed his hands over her breasts and then around her back to urge her forward across his chest. "You don't have to do it all yourself. Let me help."

He drew her face down and touched his lips to hers. It was a gentle exploration that quickly became a possession. He urged her mouth open and slid his tongue against hers, then ravaged her soft contours.

She sank willingly into the siren call of dizzying pleasure. Senses edgy, she felt him adjust her hips, felt the electrifying touch of his finger against the small bundle of nerves between her legs. He ran his finger around her taut flesh stretched to accommodate the very tip of him. Suddenly he was inside. The friction was pleasure mixed with pain, exquisite, unbearable.

He withdrew a fraction, and pushed back in with a shallow thrust. She stretched, burned. Pleasure spiraled and she moaned into his mouth. His hand on the back of her head held her as she would have pulled back, overwhelmed by sensation assaulting her body. He repeated the action and, with each thrust, worked his way deeper into her body.

Fully seated, he no longer held her down. His mouth roamed her face as his hands roamed her body, stroking, caressing, tormenting. He touched places long ago lovers hadn't bothered to touch. She didn't want it to end. Nothing mattered. Not the past. Not the future. Nothing but this moment, this man, this deep, exquisite intimacy.

It had to end.

She reared, hands on his chest, pulled herself almost free, then shoved back down. Her body accepted his more easily now. Heated prickles raced up and down her spine.

She did it again and a deep groan tore from his throat. His hands held her hips loosely. He lay compliant. The rush of power was as heady as the pleasure. She twisted and angled and experimented as her body discovered new pleasure points, but she couldn't quite seem to get there.

A primitive noise rumbled from his throat. His grip on her hips tightened. In a dizzying rush, she found herself flipped on her back. He reached down and hooked his arms underneath her knees to draw her legs back. She was wide open, vulnerable, at the mercy of his greater strength.

Her gaze locked with his for a split second. Then she had to close her eyes. She had never seen such an expression on the face of any man before. There was fierce possession and raw ion, but something else shone from the glittering sapphire depths.

Something that reached out and called to her very soul.

She couldn't bear it.

He leaned over, and slid himself slowly and fully into her. Legs draped over his shoulders, her hips were tilted at such an angle it felt like he touched her womb. He drew back just as slowly. She whimpered again, desperate for something more, and tried to grind herself against him. It seemed to break his control. With a tortured groan, he hammered into her, pulled back and did it again. From there, she could only hang on, tossed on waves of pleasure that escalated with each hard thrust.

Just before she shattered into fragments, she knew with certainty that she was lost.

Chapter 14

Margaine Confluence:/ Second Rising Pallas Five

A stinging smack on her bare bottom jerked Maegan from the most restful, natural sleep she'd had in a long, long time. She opened her eyes and rolled over, automatically reaching for something with which to cover herself. All she could find was a pillow. She dragged it across her torso.

Alerik stood by the sleeping platform, legs braced apart, arms folded. He was fully dressed in casual tan breeches and pale blue tunic. Not an official duty day in the governor's office, then. She couldn't interpret the guarded expression on his face, but it held no trace of the man who had ravished her body so thoroughly the night before.

"Ow," she said crossly, for lack of anything better to say.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Some women would take that as foreplay and ask for more."

"Then go play with them and leave me alone." She spotted a corner of the cover draped over the side of the sleeping platform and reached for it. "Pervert," she muttered.

With both the cover and the pillow in her possession, she felt better protected and dared to look at him again.

His stance hadn't changed but now his dimples were in evidence. "A liberal wife. How...exhilarating."

"I'm sure there's a reason for this bullying," she said. "But if you've forgotten what it is, I'd like to go back to sleep."

"Sorry, not today." With an unexpectedness that left her breathless, he yanked the pillow and cover away from her, and pressed her back against the sleeping platform. "Today," he said, as he loomed over her, "we're going on a voyage of discovery together, at the end of which one of us, at least, is going to be highly enlightened."

His blue gaze bored into her. She licked suddenly dry lips. His eyelids flickered; his intent expression faltered. He glanced down. Heated breath escaped him in a drawn out hiss. He levered up on one arm and gently stroked a finger across her breast. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to be so rough."

She followed his gaze. A pale blue spot bloomed on her flesh. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of a host of aches--good aches--and an unaccustomed stickiness between her legs. She didn't have a clue how to respond.

He saved her the effort. He dropped a hard kiss on her mouth and surged to his feet with effortless, fluid grace. "Ten nans," he said and pointed at the bathing

chamber. "Then we eat."

Bathing she could relate to. It was almost a desperate necessity. The eating part she could skip. A nutro drink was all she needed, but somehow she didn't think that's what he had in mind.

She rolled off the bed and sauntered into the bathing chamber. Her outward composure didn't reveal even a scrap of the self-consciousness that was screaming at her to run, run, run from the sharp gaze that dissected everything. He had seen and touched every microsent of bare flesh anyway. But last night was done with. Today was a new day. Today she had to build the barriers back stronger than before.

There was no doubt in her mind what he intended for the day. They would attempt to tear the habitat on Pallas Four apart to locate the children. She was more convinced than ever that Morgon had them. But had he been able to transport them to a safe haven yet?

She didn't dawdle with the tasks of bathing and dressing. There was no point to it. The great room was empty when she entered. She could hear Alerik's voice in the adjacent room. It sounded frustrated, angry but she couldn't distinguish the words. Without compunction, she headed to the partially open doorway from which the sounds issued.

Part way across the room, her attention was caught first by the table arranged for a meal, and then by the selection of food itself.

Blood of Cor! The man had ordered the meal associated with a couple's first

sexual relations. It was archaic, barbaric. His obsession with the ancient traditions was...disturbing. So why were her feet stuck to the floor, and her bones felt as if they were dissolving in a heated rush of warmth?

"It's just food," Alerik said in her ear. "To be savored and enjoyed. Although we do have to speed this up a little, unfortunately." He placed a hand at the small of her back and urged her forward.

He seated her on the padded bench and settled himself beside her, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. The intimacy was exactly what she had been determined to avoid. As he began to serve food onto the single platter, she was shocked to realize she was succumbing to his purpose.

It's not worth the effort, she justified desperately to herself. There are bigger battles. And so she obediently opened her mouth when he offered her a succulent slice of geriam fruit, and obediently followed tradition to reciprocate.

They ate in silence for the most part, with only an occasional exchange of words. Maegan realized, at one point, how easy it would be to just give in, succumb to the siren call of a normal marriage partnership, a normal life. But what was normal? And how long would "normal" last when children were being taught to hate and destroy?

Alerik was attentive and focused on the moment. He was the lover from the night before, husband of a new wife, seemingly in no hurry, despite his words. Yet every now and then she glimpsed something in his eyes. He was worried.

The leisurely pace changed as soon as they left the table. He hustled her out of

the habitat and onto a waiting hoverbot, which whisked them to the transporter dock.

Ten men and women, including Commander Foster, Brown-hair and Black-hair, waited for them beside the Grogon governor's official vessel. All were armed.

"Expecting a war?" she said, as Alerik took her arm and marched her past them without even a chance for greeting and introduction.

He snorted. "With you in the middle of things, it's hard to know what to expect. Consider them your nursemaids for the day."

Sliek! Maegan fingered the tracking bracelet as she dropped into the center seat to which Alerik directed her. Eleven trained warriors settled in around her. Certain they were headed for Pallas Four, she had begun formulating a plan to get to Makiee, and it had just become a whole lot harder. She had to neutralize the bracelet. That was the first priority. As long as she was being monitored, she couldn't be effective.

The second priority was to establish the whereabouts of the children. With any luck, Morgon had left a message. She didn't know when she had become convinced beyond a doubt that he had them. She just knew he did.

Next to her, as the transporter took to the skies, Alerik and Commander Foster discussed the third shift patrols. Nothing eventful there, as far as she could tell. She tried to focus on her Makiee strategy, but Alerik's deep voice kept distracting her.

When she closed her eyes, it was even worse. Then the images began--vivid, fresh memories of what he'd done to her, where he'd touched her the night before, and her own uncontrolled, uninhibited reactions. She was certain she'd screamed at one point. Remaining still in her seat took an enormous effort, when her body wanted to squirm, jump, run, anything but be inactive. She only hoped the heat burning in her cheeks wasn't noticeable.

Alerik shifted against her. His hand came down on her thigh just above her knee, a hot brand of possession. Nerve endings throughout her body sizzled. He was turned slightly away from her, still deep in conversation, and probably didn't even realize what he'd done.

Something compelled her to look up. Seated across from them, Sharm Foster had his head tilted, listening to Alerik, but his knowing amber gaze was fixed on her. The heat in her cheeks erupted into a blaze. Five days ago, even yesterday, she would have pulled away from Alerik's hand. Now, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she lifted her chin at the commander's silent perusal and, after a nan, he gave an almost imperceptible nod and returned his full attention to Alerik.

The topic had shifted to Pallas Seven. She listened with half an ear. She didn't like the counselor there, and had avoided with him as much as possible. Nothing eventful had happened there lately either. No more bodies. No more unauthorized vessel arrivals. The patrols had done their job, it seemed.

She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes again in an effort to concentrate. It wasn't a long trip. She didn't have much time to plan. Deep male voices rose and fell around her. There came a lull in the conversation.

"I hope you're going to give me time to meet with my leadership team at Janas Corporation," she said, her eyes still closed. "Companies don't run themselves." And she had sadly neglected hers lately. Luckily, she had a team who could and did step up in her absences without hesitation. The Mariltar contingent didn't need to know that.

A heartbeat of silence stretched into two. She desperately wanted to open her eyes to see the body language of the two men.

Alerik's hand tightened on her knee. "Rest assured," he responded smoothly. "Janas is an important part of our planned activities for today."

She was instantly mistrustful of the way he said it. Her eyes flew open. The faint amusement on Commander Foster's face was in contrast to Alerik's unyielding expression. It made her uncertain and nervous.

"Do they know we're coming? We have a new product to launch. It's critical for us. Timing is crucial. We can't waste time on trivial issues."

The launch wasn't imminent, but they didn't need to know that either. Nor was she concerned about the sensitive technology. The law would protect it. What concerned her was that certain of her staff and other irregularities might not hold up to a question posed in the right way or tougher scrutiny.

"Trivial? Nothing about our plans for the day is trivial. We intend to find answers to some very vexing questions." Alerik lifted his hand from her knee only to place an arm around her shoulder and draw her closer to him. "So if you would care to save us some time and enlighten us now on a few points, we may

not have to interfere with your...Janas schedule."

His arm was heavy around her shoulders, offering a comfort and protectiveness she desperately wanted to accept. It would be so easy to give in, to reveal the answers they so badly wanted. But the answers were secrets that were not hers to divulge.

She struggled to remind herself that behind that blue, warm, comionate gaze, lurked the ruthlessness of a Mariltar heir, trained as a warrior, trained as a politician, trained as a leader. He was bound by oath into the service of the Coalition of Nine Nations, which was blind to the flaws of its own post-war Vision. She had given him partial answers. They hadn't made a difference.

Nothing would make a difference except absolute proof.

And that, she realized, as an icy cold reached out to her body's extremities, was where the real truth lay.

* * * *

The Taragon priests were here, on Pallas Four.

Where exactly, his security team had yet to determine.

Alerik gripped Maegan's arm and escorted her through the transporter door into

the concourse. His gut was clenched in a hard knot of rebellion. He didn't want her here. Everything in him clamored to get her back to Pallas Five where he could keep her safe.

Except he wasn't so sure of that either.

Six children had vanished from his custody. He had failed to keep them safe.

Outside the concourse, the fragrant, heated air of Pallas Four failed, for the first time, to sooth his senses. There was danger here. His gut was rarely wrong.

He rapidly reviewed the plans he and Sharm had devised earlier that morning, after learning the Taragon vessel had abruptly departed for Pallas Four. To their knowledge, the vessel's occupants had stayed on board and had never set foot on Pallas Five. Yet here on Pallas Four, their vessel, three berths down the dock from the governor's transporter, was deserted. A scan had shown no sentients on board.

"Eyes left," Sharm murmured at his shoulder.

Alerik turned his head and stopped in his tracks transfixed. Followed by a small retinue, a mountain of a woman bore down on them. The speed at which she moved was alarming and potentially hazardous to the Mariltar contingent. His team appeared to think so as well, and rapidly moved into position around Maegan and him.

He recognized Mistress Gloriana, of course, but vid screen images in no way prepared him for the reality. She was garbed in what appeared to be skin tight, brilliant orange, studded, body armor. Everything, with the exception of her skin, was orange from her helmeted head down to her combat boots.

On his right, Drakal muttered to Sharm, "Watch it. She likes to hug."

Just when it seemed the entire Mariltar team was in jeopardy of being bowled over, Mistress Gloriana came to an abrupt halt.

Alerik blinked. If he hadn't seen it for himself, he would have found it hard to believe. One nan, she was moving like a bracon, the next she simply wasn't. She didn't seem to notice that two of her retinue, unable to stop as quickly, bounced off her enormous backside.

"Governor," she cooed, "so kind of you to notify us of your official visit." Her narrowed gaze swept over his obviously armed team. The only notice she'd had was a courtesy communication as they'd approached the landing dock.

"Maegan!"

One nan he had a grip on Maegan's arm, the next his wife was pulled away from him and had all but disappeared into the enthusiastic embrace of the counselor of Pallas Four. She emerged from it disheveled and flushed, her hair in danger of escaping its customary sleek arrangement.

"More sleep," Mistress Gloriana pronounced, as she thrust Maegan back at Alerik. "And more real food." She clicked her tongue and shook her body. Her focus settled on Alerik. "You're not trying hard enough."

"Governor," she forged on, before he could respond, "as much as I appreciate your attention and presence in our humble city again, this situation disturbs me greatly."

Beside him, Maegan stiffened. "I regret any concern we've caused you, Mistress," he said. "May I have a private word?"

The enormous body went still. Her gaze rested thoughtfully on Drakal, who carried a blaster across his back, before it shifted to Maegan. What she saw in his wife's face, he didn't know, but when her attention returned to him, her expression was several degrees cooler.

"If you wish." But she made no move to accommodate him. Instead, her eyes flickered at Maegan again, then narrowed, and her fleshy features took on a sly expression. "I do not want Pallas Four to become a battleground, Governor. There are Taragon priests hunting through my city and now a small force of armed Mariltar warriors here, I assume, to hunt them. What is it the priests seek, may I ask?"

Maegan tried to wrench herself from his grasp, but this time he had a tighter grip. He didn't have to look at her to know she was angry. It had been a tactical mistake to keep the knowledge of the priests' whereabouts from her. He just hadn't been ready to divulge it. There was no longer a need for a private word with the Pallas Four counselor.

"Children, Mistress," he ground out. "Six of them. Taragon children. Rest assured this is Coalition business. You wouldn't happen to know where Morgon Trion is, would you?" It was a question he was asking too often lately.

"Aaahh." Mistress Gloriana expelled her breath in a long, noisy gust. She seemed to have figured something out. If anything, her expression grew craftier. She wasn't about to share.

"Morgon is a shadow, a kiss of air, a caress of sun." She closed her eyes and stroked her hands slowly down her sides. "A blade of justice."

Her eyes flew open. "The priests hunt in the city core. They terrorize tourists and residents alike with their presence alone. Remove them, Governor. Without bloodshed. There are no Taragon children here."

She inclined her head and pivoted neatly. Her minions scattered. With the same breathtaking speed at which she had arrived, she forged across the wide courtyard and vanished down one of the many arched corridors.

"Blood of Cor!" As if released from a temporary paralysis, Sharm's rare curse brought the team to life. Maegan renewed her struggles to be free of his grip.

"What just happened here?" Alerik demanded of Sharm. He jerked on Maegan's arm. "Stop it."

Sharm rolled his shoulders. "My opinion? Morgon Trion's a god. The Taragon

children don't exist. And Pallas Four has an unhealthy number of residents willing to perjure themselves and commit treason against the Coalition." His gaze flicked to Maegan, and the corners of his mouth twitched, which didn't improve Alerik's mood at all.

Tired of her relentless attempts to free herself, Alerik hauled Maegan in front of him and crossed his arms across her chest in an effort to subdue her. "Take care of the priests. Do what you have to. Make them engage in dialog. Anything. I want them back on their vessel. Something must make them believe the children are here. Find out--Balls of Sortor!" Pain exploded through his foot and his belly as Maegan simultaneously stamped down and drove her elbow into him. He jerked back just in time to avoid her head butt to his chin.

Then he lost his temper. Part of him watched in utter amazement as he gripped her with one hand and delivered a hard whack to her ass with the other. Hampered though she was, she came right back at him with a lethal back kick, that could have taken him down, had he not turned just in time to block it. He managed to grab her other arm and jerked her to him.

He was aware of his team frozen in shock around him as he stood nose-to-nose, belly-to-belly with Maegan. They were both panting, and Sagar's slieking crystals if he wasn't getting turned on as her sweet breath puffed across his face.

"You don't fight by the rules," she said through clenched teeth.

"No," he countered, already regretting the small public humiliation he had inflicted on her. "The rules are not the same for lovers."

"Batriel slime. Let me go."

"Learn to ask more politely."

"Where are the children?" she hissed.

"That's what we're here to determine."

"You're going to give them back to the priests, aren't you?"

"Not my decision."

"Why did you bring me here? I'm not about to cooperate."

"No, but others might. You're bait for the day, Green Eyes. And like it or not, we're going to be inseparable."

Her nostrils flared and her lip curled. He wanted nothing so much as to bend her back over his arm and wipe the sneer off her face with a kiss that would leave her subdued and submissive. Except that even last night, despite all the kisses, she hadn't exactly been submissive.

"Enough," he snapped, afraid he would lose control altogether and take her

standing up against one of the arched columns. He swung her around.

"Corenna, Drakal, with me. Let's pay Janas a visit and see what secrets can be liberated today."

Chapter 15

Margaine Confluence:/ Fourth Rising Pallas Four

Blazing starpits, nothing had gone her way yet.

Nothing.

True to his word, Alerik hadn't allowed her more than two paces away from him. He might as well have ed them with a magfield.

She was alone now in a bathing chamber, but only after she had threatened Corenna and Drakal with bodily harm when they'd wanted to stay in the room while she relieved herself. They had compromised by performing a thorough inspection for possible escape routes and now stood guard outside the only door. Alerik had gone off to meet with someone. She didn't know who.

It worried her. And it worried her that she hadn't seen Makiee yet.

She shook her hands under the cleansing dry shower. The metal bracelet on her wrist gleamed in the light. She had never felt so helpless. Automatically, she raised her hands to repair the damage done to her hair earlier by Mistress

Gloriana's enthusiastic greeting. In the reflection given off by the holovid, she noticed a small irregularity on the surface of the bracelet. She gently pried the object loose. It was a tiny multi-purpose chip. Someone, in the course of the day, had attached it to her.

The bathing chamber had a simple communication console. She dropped the chip into one of the receptacles. The small screen on the console flickered. A message flashed briefly before the screen went blank again.

The priests know. Stay away from them.

Certain there was more to the cryptic message, she pressed replay, but the screen remained blank. Frustrated, she tried again. So intent was she on her purpose, that she had no warning before a hand reached into her line of vision and a voice said, "I'll take that."

She pivoted. Corenna, arms folded, shook his head sadly at her, while Drakal inserted the chip into his comm band.

"Nothing," he informed Corenna. "It's a self-destruct."

"What was on it, Maegan?" Corenna asked.

"Nothing. It was blank."

"We saw the flash."

She shrugged. "Sorry, it was blank."

The two glanced at one another.

"Let her explain it to the governor," said Drakal. "We may be able to retrieve something off it back on Pallas Five."

"Why wait?" Corenna moved to take Maegan's arm. She flung up a hand in warning and, with a grimace, he gestured her ahead of him instead. "This is Janas Corporation--cutting edge information technology systems. Let's have them test it."

"Why would they cooperate?"

"It's not a question of cooperation. It's an opportunity to humble us lesser sentients with their superior knowledge and technology."

They hustled her down the hall toward her office.

"Maegan, here, is going back to the governor's care, thank Sagar's crystals. You and I are going to have another chat with that gorgeous Soron in the lab. She seemed quite, ah, receptive and talkative."

If anyone could retrieve the erased message, it would be Nimon. The chip had to be from Morgon. A warning. But what did the priests know?

Maegan ed Coryon's station with a nod at her wide-eyed assistant, mounted the shallow flight of steps and entered her office. His back to her, Alerik was comfortably ensconced in one of her guest chairs.

Makiee sat across from him. Guilt flooded his young face as soon as he caught sight of Maegan. What had they been discussing?

Alerik swung around, glanced past her to Corenna and Drakal, then rose slowly to his feet. "Trouble again?"

"We're on it, sir," Drakal said, ever cheerful. "We'll be back as soon as we complete a small task."

Alerik nodded and flicked his sapphire gaze back to Maegan as Corenna and Drakal left. The look in his eyes promised much, and an involuntary shudder rippled through her. But he gestured behind him and said calmly, "Makiee has agreed to accompany us to your habitat. I think we're almost done with Janas Corporation for the day."

They hadn't uncovered anything then. Maegan allowed herself a deep breath of relief. No second set of books. No tunnels. No one but she and Morgon knew about the tunnels, although sometimes she wondered how those of her staff involved in the rescue relays could fail to suspect something.

Alerik bent down and touched the comm on the table. "Coryon, are those files done yet?"

"Almost, sir."

Maegan went cold. Her gaze flew to Makiee, who was looking everywhere but her. "What have you done?" she whispered.

His face was a mask of misery, but it was Alerik who answered. "He followed my instructions and uplinked your personal database to our network. It will make it easier for you to work on Pallas Five."

Blazing starpits, how had he convinced Makiee to do that? And what exactly had Makiee done? She was under no illusions. Even now, her data was being analyzed back on Pallas Five. Depending on how strong the bans were that Makiee had sent after her data, they could have nothing but legitimate Janas records.

Or they could have everything, including the second set of books and all her relay routes. Damning evidence indeed.

Makiee's expression said it all. She couldn't bring herself to blame him in the least.

"You had no right," she said through gritted teeth to Alerik.

"I had every right. You may not be incarcerated, but you're far from being absolved."

"So you'll find an additional set of financial records and you'll find old flight routes. I'm sure you had your suspicions," she said bitterly. She couldn't think what this might mean to her personally, but she mourned the crumbling of Morgon's hard built dream.

Alerik stepped closer. "Stop fighting this so hard, love."

The heat of his body reached out to her coldness. The endearment battered her defenses. He was her greatest threat. Why did she yearn so to yield to him?

"What happened with Corenna and Drakal?"

"Someone ed me a message chip today, probably Gloriana." It was inevitable that he would learn that too. Why was she fighting him so hard?

"The message?"

"The priests know. Stay away from them."

"Blood of Cor!" Alerik jerked away from her and punched at his personal comm.

"Where are the priests?"

Commander Foster's voice answered, "Still haven't located one, sir. We always seem to be a step behind."

"We know how many there are?"

"We believe five, sir."

"Has the counselor come through with resources?"

"Yes, sir. We have teams of three on every priest."

Alerik glanced at Maegan. The simmering sapphire-black of his gaze revealed strong emotion. "At least one of the children is equipped with a tracking device. Morgon Trion knows it. The priests are chasing false signals."

* * * *

It had to be the older child. There'd been something very strange about his eyes. An implant? A prosthetic?

Maegan allowed Alerik to help her out of the transporter. Makiee followed still

looking like a whipped baby mercat. He'd whispered his apologies, but they'd had no chance for further private conversation.

Alerik hadn't taken his hand off her since they'd left Janas Corporation. It was almost as if he expected her to dissipate into thin air.

He placed his other hand on the access to the habitat, and she watched in renewed disbelief as the door slid open.

"How did you--?"

"The code was on my console shortly after the bonding quorum." Alerik pulled her aside to let Corenna and Drakal enter the habitat first. "Morgon Trion must not share your objections."

It was too much. Her brain was already overloaded with too many unanswered questions. It was inconceivable that Morgon endorsed this partnership with an heir to an institution against which he had long rebelled.

They were all barely inside the habitat with the door secured behind them when the men's communicators buzzed to life. "Three priests on their way to the habitat."

"Location of the others?" Alerik barked.

"Unknown. We lost track of them."

"Cor's blood! Let's not take any chances. Shield the exterior," Alerik ordered.

Drakal was already moving to the main control console in the corner of the room. "They'll know we're here. The transporter--"

"My guess is they've had trackers on us as we've had on them." Alerik was hustling her toward the interior hall of the habitat. "Makiee, follow. I want you and Maegan in here."

He pushed her into the safe room, an area completely reinforced and capable of withstanding tremendous force. It would remain standing even if the rest of the habitat was blown apart.

The door slammed closed and she and Makiee were left in a vacuum of peculiar silence.

"Maegan, I--"

"No more apologies, Makiee," she cut him off. "I can't imagine what he said to you to get you to cooperate, but it doesn't matter now." She ran over to the room's small control . "Can you get me into the bathing chamber next door?"

"He wants us to stay here."

"Makiee!" Makiee seemed well on his way to having a serious case of hero worship.

"All right. All right. Why?"

"I have something I need to do." Like find Morgon. If he was in the tunnels. "But I want you to stay here."

Makiee already had the open and the interior cover which contained the room controls off. He whistled at the contents behind it. "Morgon's work again. This could take some time."

"Just hurry."

Makiee glanced at her sideways. "If you need to use the--"

"I don't. Concentrate, please."

"What do I tell the governor when he shows up and finds you gone?"

"You may not have to tell him anything." Maegan shifted from one foot to the

other. "I might not be gone long at all." She was counting on the priests keeping the Mariltar team busy for a while.

Makiee frowned and fiddled with the . "But what if-- There, not so hard after all."

One of four doors to the safe room slid open. "Oops, sorry, wrong room."

The door closed and another slid open, this time to the bathing chamber.

"Thanks, Makiee. You're a genius!" She threw her arms around him in a brief hug. "Stay here and close the door again."

How she would communicate with him when she was back, she didn't know. No sound could penetrate the room from outside and the comm could only be accessed from the great room. It was something to be figured out later. She waited impatiently for the safe room door to close completely before she activated the entrance to the tunnel.

She climbed onto the pad and touched the control that would take her to the hidden habitat. It wasn't the only place Morgon could have concealed the children, but it was the most logical.

The habitat was bathed in a dark silence. As she moved further into the unnatural stillness, the tiny hairs on her nape stood up.

Every instinct in her body clamored at her to leave and leave now. Yet something compelled her forward. The lumens brightened to a low glow with her progress.

A tall, dark shape materialized from the shadowed corner of the room and moved toward her.

"Morgon..."

* * * *

"All five are back on their vessel?"

"Every one."

"No response to our communications?"

Sharm shook his head. "None. I've never dealt with people like this. It's clear they don't want confrontation, nor to engage us in any way. There's simply no interest. They're completely focused on this search."

"Then why did they all give up and return to their vessel so abruptly?"

"Don't know."

"Unless they found what they're seeking?" Corenna interjected.

"We'd know that. Our scanners show only five sentients aboard their vessel."

"Then maybe they obtained critical information," Drakal offered.

"Why are they still here? They haven't requested departure clearance. They're just sitting there."

"Waiting for something."

"Alerik, where's Maegan?" Sharm inquired.

Outside the habitat, a soft green mist was beginning to obscure the valley floor. Two squems scampered along the balcony rail, oblivious to the problems of the human world.

"I locked her in the safe room with Makiee," he said absently. "Probably should let her out."

A muffled snort came from one of the men behind him.

"Bargain with her," he heard Drakal mutter. "Release her when she gives up some information on this place."

"Not a bad idea," Sharm said quietly beside him.

"I don't think any of us have the patience to outwait her." An urgency was rising in him as something poked and prodded in his brain.

"Sagar's crystals!" The sick realization exploded like a laserblast, and he turned with a violence that made Sharm jump back. He didn't bother with the comm, but strode across the room and down the hall to the safe room.

"Check her tracker signal," he snapped over his shoulder. It took tremendous effort to focus on the code sequence he had programmed to lock down the safe room. When the door opened, the sight of Makiee, all alone, playing with a holovid, validated his fears and almost sent him to his knees with rage and an inexplicable pounding grief.

"Tracker's dead," Sharm said. "It's either been blocked or disabled."

He nodded unsurprised, drew a ragged breath and focused on the Bogasill. "Where is she?"

Makiee cowered in his chair like a cornered carnet. He glanced wild-eyed from Alerik to Sharm. The holovid game revolved forgotten in front of him. His hands dug into the arms of the chair and he looked like he could bolt except there was

nowhere to go.

Fearful for Maegan, Alerik had no patience. He descended on the boy prepared to choke the answer out of him until Sharm's quiet warning brought him up short.

Through a red haze, he forced himself to step aside and let Sharm approach Makiee. "No one's going to hurt you. Just tell us where she is," he said.

Garbled noises came from the boy.

"Do it again," Sharm commanded.

Makiee almost fell out of his chair in his hurry. He knocked the holovid aside and, with a wary eye on Alerik, stumbled over to the room's control , which was open, its face removed.

Alerik forced his fisted hands behind his back and made himself stand at ease, legs spread, as Makiee fumbled and fiddled with the 's interior. After nanonans, he threw up his hands and mumbled something to Sharm.

"He let her into the bathing chamber," Sharm snapped at Corenna and Drakal.

Corenna and Drakal had only been gone a nan when Makiee exclaimed in triumph and a door behind Alerik slid open. It was too much to expect, of

course, that she would be there.

As Alerik stepped into the room, Corenna and Drakal burst in through the door leading to Maegan's sleeping chamber. "Not here," he tossed back at Sharm.

More questions from Sharm. More mumbles from Makiee.

"He says she made him the close the safe room door immediately."

"And did he?" Alerik prowled the perimeter studying every architectural feature that could yield a clue. If Maegan had left the habitat, this was the room from which she'd done it. But he was fairly certain the room had only one outside wall, which was made of opaque plexi. Nothing about it suggested a hidden portal.

"He did, but he was curious so he opened it again."

Alerik stopped in his tracks and pivoted. Sharm and the Bogasill stood together at the door, the boy slightly behind the commander. He narrowed his eyes at the boy. "Her life may be at stake here. I want everything you saw, everything you heard, everything you smelled. Everything."

Makiee looked like he was about to expire from fear, but then he rallied. He threw his shoulders back and moved forward. "I-it wasn't much." He sidled past Alerik and tapped on a section of solid wall. "It looked like there was some sort of exit here. It was only a nanonan. Maegan was already gone. I can't be sure."

"It's all we have. Get the platscanners in here," he snapped at Corenna and Drakal. "Maybe this time they'll do some good against Morgon and his slieking technology. I also want a report on the priests. Makiee, over here now. Start looking. There has to be something that controls the portal."

Enthusiasm restored at being given a task, Makiee hurried to comply.

"What's bothering you?" Sharm asked quietly, as they watched the Bogasill run his hands along the base of the wall. It wasn't where Alerik would have begun to look.

"Yes, she's gone again, but I get the feeling you think there's a connection between her disappearance and the priests?"

"I don't know." Alerik turned aside. Makiee, although intent on his task, was likely listening to everything they said. Alerik just didn't know that he could trust him. When it came to Maegan, he was finding it hard to trust anyone.

"My gut is telling me something is very wrong here. Why did they go back to their ship so abruptly? Why did they come here in the first place? I'm guessing they have what they were looking for. Or something comparable."

"Maegan would do everything in her power to keep those children away from them," Sharm said. "It was her own decision to leave that safe room. You can't assume there's a connection between her and the priests' activities."

"You just said it yourself. 'Everything in her power.' To the point of sacrifice?"

"You're not thinking logically, Alerik. What would that accomplish? The priests want the children, not her."

"They know she was involved in their abduction. And she knows they know. She might have given herself up to allow Morgon more time to get the children to safety."

He turned back to check on Makiee and scowled. The boy was attacking the wall in an inefficient, random pattern.

"Assuming Morgon even has the children, that still doesn't make sense," Sharm muttered at his side. "Give Maegan more credit-- Balls of Sortor!"

The section of wall Makiee had been exploring suddenly slid open.

Makiee yelped and jumped back. "I didn't do that."

"You disappoint me, Makiee." Out of the dimly lit aperture stepped a tall figure dressed in dark brown from neck to feet. "You should have worked out the mechanism easily enough, or were you procrastinating? Torn loyalties, hmm?" He inclined his head. "Governor. Commander."

Alerik stepped forward. The brew of emotion threatening to erupt was barely under control. "Morgon Trion? Or is it Commander Tiege?"

"Whichever pleases you, sir. I claim both names."

"And how many others?" Alerik said through gritted teeth. "Where is my wife?"

Chapter 16

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising Pallas Four

The stygian darkness she could bear. It was the bone-invading cold that was intolerable. It made her body shudder and her teeth hammer together. Her body, still fragile, had no defense against it.

Maegan hugged her legs and buried her face in her knees, where at least some of the captured warmth from her breath eased the icy prickles of pain in her face.

She was terrified. She'd been brought to the Taragon vessel, that much she knew. What she didn't know was whether the vessel still rode at dock on Pallas Four or had departed. If it was still on Pallas Four, she at least had a chance. Because once they took her away, she had no doubt her life was forfeit.

There were thirteen priests, she was certain. More than the Mariltar technology had identified. They were somehow able to shield themselves and move undetected.

They'd discovered her bracelet immediately and had seemed to recognize it for what it was. Whatever they had done to it with that odd zap of electrical current had ensured the bracelet no longer gave off tiny warm vibrations against her wrist. She was certain the signal had been destroyed.

Alerik wouldn't be able to find her.

She wondered, with despair, if he even knew she was missing. Or really cared.

He had to regret the marriage partnership. She was the antithesis of everything he valued, everything for which he existed. Why would a Mariltar heir take her, a known troublemaker, for his bonded mate? She couldn't make sense of it.

And yet... Their physical bonding had been the most amazing experience of her life. He had been so tender, so intently focused on her and her needs, so ionate, so caring. For that too brief, exquisite moment in time, he had made her feel cherished, even...loved.

In this dark, icy place, she could touch three walls by stretching out her hand. She'd tried to locate the fourth and couldn't. She decided she didn't want to know what lay in that impenetrable void.

There was no way to judge the ing of time. Her thoughts pulled her into warm, loving fantasies where she and Alerik put aside their differences and created a family together, only to jerk her away and batter her against painfully sharp spears of skepticism, doubt and mistrust.

When a beam of light illuminated the darkness, she was convinced at first she dreamed or hallucinated. Stiff from cold, she managed to lift her head. It was no dream. Something large moved to partially block the beam of light. A rough exclamation carried a note of disgust. Dim lumens sprang to existence and

slowly, slowly the room began to warm.

"I apologize." The figure knelt before her and spread a soft, warm heaviness over her shoulders. Life-giving heat blanketed her aching limbs. "This is unacceptable treatment. I will a protest with our council." The universal language flowed in beautiful, soft cadence from him. There was no trace of the heavy accent she had heard from her other abductors.

The man tilted his head and she had her first full look at him as the hood of his robe slithered off his bald head.

An odd sensation gripped her. Something was off. Her memory, sluggish from the cold, wouldn't respond to the nudge.

He had one of the most beautiful faces she had ever seen. Sharm Foster's handsomeness seemed ordinary by comparison. High cheekbones, chiseled lips, everything in perfect proportion. But it was his eyes--liquid, midnight, extraordinary eyes--that compelled, drew her, made her forget where she was and why she was there.

She swayed forward. He gave a gentle smile.

Then suddenly her mind was her own again. Dazed, she tried to assimilate what had just happened, but couldn't focus. His gaze roamed her face, then her body. Everywhere it touched, it warmed. Her uncontrollable shudders stopped. Coldinduced aches vanished. Her terror evaporated. This man would keep her safe.

He smiled again and held out his hand. Without hesitation, she put hers into it. A tiny jolt of intense pain seared through the veins in her body, but was gone before she really ed it. He glanced down at the hand he held and a curious stillness came over him. She thought she heard a hiss.

The sapphire brand across her three fingers glowed jewel-bright in the low light. The man seemed fascinated by it. He rotated her hand to the side, turned it over and rubbed his thumb over the mark. When he raised his head, she had to bite back an exclamation. His eyes were fathomless, dark, blank, empty, yet strangely beautiful and compelling.

"Alerik Mariltar's bonded mate," he said, his voice low and warm. "How surprising. Your name?"

Without thought she spoke. "Maegan Shale."

"Morgon's niece."

He made the statement as if he already knew and was just reinforcing the knowledge. Her relationship to Alerik had been more of a surprise.

Alarms were sounding in her head. Why was she answering his questions? At some deep level, her instinct screamed at her to be cautious, but the answers came readily anyway. She didn't seem to have a choice.

"Do you know my husband and my uncle?" She stumbled over husband, but he

gave no sign he noticed.

"I'm acquainted with both. I am Nargune, Clan of the Merula. Come." Still grasping her hand, he pulled her to her feet. "This is no place for the wife of a Mariltar heir."

He led her into the wide corridor of the star vessel. It was deserted, nor did they encounter another being as they walked for some distance in the dim light. There were no visible portals in the walls. She had no clue as to the vessel's location.

Without warning, Nargune stopped and turned to face a blank wall. A portion of it slid soundlessly aside. He ushered her onto a narrow lift tube. Lift tubes were designed to move fast, but she was still unprepared for the rapid descent.

Her stomach heaved. A hand closed around her arm as the door opened again and instantly her nausea disappeared. They stepped into a circular room filled with warmth and light. Eight Taragon priests were engaged in various tasks around the room. The dome that covered the space was not transparent but an opaque, luminous orange. Not a single priest glanced in their direction as Nargune guided her almost half way around the room and through yet another door that opened with their approach.

The lack of attention paid her was surreal. It was as if she didn't exist, as if it didn't matter in the least that she had been removed from the dark, icy cell in which two of them had placed her. The room into which Nargune led her was far different, certainly an anomaly on a working class star vessel.

"Do let me know," he murmured, his voice smooth and rich with warmth, "if

there is anything you need." He released her arm and gave a brief bow of his head. "I must leave you to attend to other duties, but I will return as soon as I am able. My apologies again for your earlier treatment."

Left alone in the room, Maegan marveled at walls covered with opulent, deep crimson fabric, an enormous sleeping platform suspended in mid-air and a sleek comm console that looked complex and more sophisticated than any Mariltar technology.

A holovid suddenly appeared over the console and began to display images of food. Fascinated, she moved closer. Tempting aromas wafted through the room. A light pulsed on the console. She touched it. A in the console slid aside. A platter bearing the food frozen for an instant in the holovid image appeared. The food was hot, the aroma stronger.

A craving greater than any she had experienced in a long, long time came out of nowhere. She reached for the plate.

A stray thought prodded her. She was a prisoner. She should be concerned, cautious. Terrified.

The Taragon priests had once been feared throughout the Crestar System. With the end of the Great Conflict, they had been driven to their knees, their power stripped from them. Chased back to their temples, they had become nothing more than consultants to the Taragon elders. She frowned and rubbed at her forehead.

In the next instant, the tastebuds in her mouth erupted with the pleasure of a

savory, delicate spice flavor. She hadn't been conscious of taking a bite of food. She ate and ate until she couldn't put another bite in her mouth.

The enormous sleeping platform beckoned, and suddenly it was imperative that she rest. Yet again, an elusive thought, stronger than before, compelled her. She reached out to touch the comm pad.

The door opened and a tall, handsome creature with beautiful, unfathomable eyes stepped into the room.

Maegan smiled. "You're back. I was getting lonely."

* * * *

"Why won't they respond?"

At dock on Pallas Four, the Taragon vessel showed no sign of activity. In the skies far above it, the starfighters of the Mariltar Seventh Fleet ostensibly performed practice maneuvers, an unsubtle message that the departure route was blocked. The counselor of Pallas Four waited on the dock for an audience that had not yet been granted.

Alerik paced the length of the port's control center, which had been commandeered by his team. Morgon Trion stood, arms folded, a pillar of calm in the center of the activity. Alerik detoured around him a third time. Maegan, they were certain, was on that vessel, at the mercy of a sect that had been responsible

for terrible atrocities in the Great Conflict. He couldn't bear to think about it.

His impatience spiked. His control broke.

He swung around. "How could you let her get involved in all this?"

Morgon Trion didn't even glance at him. "She's a grown woman. She believes in a cause."

"A treasonous one."

"So say the disciples of the Coalition Council."

"And hundreds of powerful, knowledgeable people, including my father and your brother, are wrong, while you--one man--are so right?"

This time Morgon flicked a glance at him. "I'm less alone than you think I am. Why did you favor the governorship of Grogon, Alerik Mariltar, over the Council seat?"

"That has nothing to do with this," Alerik snarled through gritted teeth.

"No? Why did you, an heir of the Mariltar Nation, choose a life partner with a

rebel reputation, who is known for daring to question the Vision?"

"The Match Key chose her." In his peripheral vision, Alerik saw Sharm move toward him. A wicked brew boiled inside of him. Fear for Maegan. Rage toward this man whom he blamed as a trigger for so much.

And doubt. The doubt tore at him, threatening to shred all the values and traditions around which his entire life had revolved. Worst of all, he couldn't believe he had just betrayed his love for Maegan.

"The Match Key has never failed to link true-bonded lifemates. That alone should tell you something." Morgon stared out the plexiwall again. "Your selection of assignments should be another clue. Surely, the Council seat would have been a more logical choice for an heir of the Mariltar nation? When will you be true to yourself, Alerik Mariltar?"

"Alerik." Sharm's calm, quiet voice penetrated the fog of killing rage.

He sucked in an enormous gulp of air and forced himself to unclench his fists. "I know myself. My path is clear. My loyalties are unshakeable. The Vision brought us out of chaos. Without it, there is no coalition of nine nations."

A faint smile appeared on Morgon's lips. "Convincing yourself? You have your father's stubbornness. The Vision has served a purpose. It was created by young warriors and old politicians weary of war. I suggest we're in another phase of societal evolution. I suggest it's time for change."

"Because the Taragon priests are building child armies?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? You have, or you had, evidence."

"What evidence?" Alerik flung a hand out. "Six Taragon children kidnapped from their homes, their families? Because a crazy man thinks they're destined for an army?"

"Yet I have seen the army," Morgon said quietly. "Witnessed the warrior training. Seen what and how they're taught. These children were sacrificed by their own parents. This isn't just an army. The priests are rebuilding their power base. They're practicing the ancient, outlawed rituals. They're building an army of Taragon priests."

"Blood of Cor!"

Alerik glared at Sharm. "You believe this nonsense?"

Sharm raised his brows and shook his head. "I don't know what to believe, but I do know this. If it's true, we're in a zatfull of trouble."

"If it's true," Alerik snapped, "why haven't the Taragon elders done something, said something? They can't possibly be so blind to the disappearances and they have the most to lose."

"It's very simple. Because they all have children who are hostages in the army. Their silence was assured from the beginning. And a few, of course, are hostage themselves to the lure of great power. It's a human enough failing."

"Unbelievable," Alerik muttered. He strode forward to stare through the plexiwall at the Taragon vessel. Maegan had to be there. Even Morgon was convinced of that. All signs of the priests had vanished at the same time she had. He was desperate to get her back. If even a fraction of what Morgon said was true, she was in mortal danger.

And deep in his heart, he did not believe Morgon was crazy. Gods help them all!

A chill tore down his spine. "Has Maegan seen this army of child priests?" If she had, and her captors knew it, he was certain he would never see her alive again. And with that thought came the shattering realization that he was actually beginning to accept Morgon's truth.

"No, she hasn't," Maegan's uncle said. "She hasn't been to The Divide."

"Are you certain they'll release her if we agree to return the children?"

The skin at his nape prickled at the silence behind him and he swung around, enraged once more. "Blazing starpits, you don't intend to return them, do you? You're handing her a death sentence!"

Morgon shook his head. "Think, Governor. Think of Maegan. Do you really

believe she would endorse such an exchange?"

"The children aren't facing a death sentence." But he didn't have to see the denial in Morgon's expression, because he knew in Maegan's view, they were. The future that had been decided for them as warriors in an unlawful army assured it. He also knew with a sense of cold, hard despair that she would sacrifice herself to protect them and the cause in which she so deeply believed.

"What are we doing then?" he asked. "They won't just hand her back. There has to be some way to extract her safely. That vessel is going nowhere."

"We wait," Morgon said, his stance unchanged, his very calmness a tinder for Alerik's impatience and growing dread. "They'll make eventually and tell us what they want. And then we'll strategize."

But when a curiously shaken Counselor Gloriana entered the port's control center with the demand of the Taragon priests, not one person had anticipated it. The priests, it seemed, weren't interested in exchanging Alerik Mariltar's wife for six children.

They demanded a council with Alerik Mariltar himself. On their vessel. He was to go unaccompanied.

"Sacred hearts of Crillac." Sharm Foster's face was pale with shock. "This isn't a simple meeting request in exchange for a hostage. We cannot trust them. They get their hands on a Mariltar heir and we're headed for war."

* * * *

The priest had to be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Maegan lay relaxed on her stomach on the sleeping platform, her face propped in her hands, and followed Nargune's movements about the room. His body moved with a fluid grace that was a pleasure in itself to watch.

He paused not far from where she lay. A slid open in the wall to reveal rows of neatly hung garments. In complete fascination, she watched as he shrugged out of his robe. His smooth head and sleek, bare back gleamed like sabronze silk in the room's low light. His lower body was encased in a tight pair of breeches. A thrill of pure, hot lust speared through her body.

He carefully hung the garment, and turned.

In some weirdly disconnected corner of her mind, Maegan knew she should be shocked, even repelled. And yet she wasn't. Surprised? A little, yet now it was all so clear. The bald head was true to the race, even if the gender was hard to reconcile with the occupation.

Nargune was a woman.

A woman who looked at Maegan and allowed a slow, sensual smile to cross her face.

And Maegan was compelled to roll over, arch her back and stretch her arms

above her head. A shameless invitation.

The gorgeous female creature strode to the sleeping platform and leaned over her. Stretched out as she was, Maegan was vulnerable and exposed, but she had no inclination to move. She lay quietly as Nargune studied her with black, fathomless eyes. Tiny prickles danced over her skin. Heat infused her lower belly.

The priest's torso was lean and muscled, with small breasts crowned by ruby nipples. Her warm breath puffed gently over Maegan's face, and she reached out a finger to brush a strand of hair off Maegan's cheek. She used the same finger to trace an intricate pattern across Maegan's lips.

Maegan parted her lips and flicked out her tongue to touch the woman's finger. The action earned her another slow, sensual smile. The priest's finger left her lips and drew a line down between her breasts. Her clothing separated and Nargune pushed the pieces aside. Maegan heard that curious hiss of breath, and something struggled for a fleeting instant to surface in her memory.

Nargune lowered her head.

Chapter 17

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising Pallas Four

"You're out of your slieking mind!" Sharm swung savagely away from Alerik and fixed on Morgon Trion. "This is no longer the jurisdiction of the governor. This has become a Coalition Council matter. Tell him he's wrong. It's a violation of the Treaty. A Mariltar heir is not a bargaining chip."

Without taking his own gaze off Alerik, Morgon said, "How quickly do you want Maegan back? You involve the Council, and these negotiations will be mired in political posturing for a rotation."

In a control room filled with anxious energy, Morgon didn't so much as twitch. Alerik felt his own ugly brew of emotions begin to calm. Both men were right. The governor should invoke the Council. The husband stood resolutely behind Morgon. There wasn't a doubt in his mind what he should do.

It was taking Sharm longer to accept that decision. He was pacing now, clearly torn, his body rigid, his movements jerky with disapproval. Predictably, he tried again. "The Treaty is clear. The Council will move quickly enough to--"

"The Treaty is not in play here." Morgon hadn't raised his voice at all, yet his words seemed to resonate throughout the room. Pallas Four port authorities and

Mariltar security personnel stopped any pretense of being busy. Small sounds died away. "The rules don't exist. It's unwise to believe that the Taragon priests ever bowed to anyone's rules but their own."

"The priests were neutralized at the end of the Great Conflict," Sharm snarled. "Their powers were stripped from them by their own clan elders."

Alerik had an instant, clear memory of a discussion with Maegan, which now seemed so long ago, even though it was only cycles. He heard himself say, "A people who do not want to be integrated, cannot be integrated."

Morgon inclined his head. A small movement. "Now you're beginning to understand."

"Understand? Understand what?" Sharm threw up his hands and paced between them. "You can't believe this, Alerik. The Taragon elders were as committed as the other nations. There was no other choice. The Vision and the Treaty depended on it. Why would you say that?"

"It was something Maegan said." But when had he actually begun to believe it? "And you just said it yourself. "There was no other choice.""

"And so they went along with the Vision while they secretly rebuilt their power base? And the Council of Nine Nations, which includes elders from Taragon, was completely unaware of this?"

"Not unaware." In the room behind Morgon, every gaze was focused on this enigmatic man.

Alerik had a fleeting thought to clear the area of all but his own team. Despite the extraordinary things being revealed, it didn't seem important. Maegan. His desperation to have her back escalated.

Morgon, himself, had no concerns about an audience. "Too cautious and slow to respond, perhaps," he said. "But not unaware."

"Blood of Cor!" Sharm halted his pacing. "You're saying the Council knows and has done nothing." His agitation was rising in direct opposition to Morgon's extraordinary calm.

"A few, very few, key know. The Vision had to be preserved and given a chance."

An uncomfortable awareness prickled across Alerik's nape. Who was this man? His uncle by marriage. Founder of Janas Corporation. A commander in the Second Fleet whose Coalition credentials held up to the toughest scrutiny. Rebel architect of a network which regularly kidnapped children. A man who had committed treason and allowed--no, encouraged--his niece to do the same?

But had he?

What should have been certain suddenly wasn't.

Morgon implied knowledge he shouldn't have. What was his access to the Council?

"If this is true, who did they think would stop the priests?"

"There are Taragon clans whose elders are committed to the Vision. We were counting on them. We didn't understand until recently that the loyalties of some were compromised by the fate of their children. The hope was that a nation could devise its own solution."

Morgon had used "we". He was becoming less careful in his speech. Deliberately so? Alerik didn't think Morgon Trion made many mistakes.

"If it's true, and I'm not saying I'm convinced, their failure and our lack of action has brought the galaxy back to the brink of war." Sharm swung around and strode off across the control room. He acknowledged no one. At the end of the room past the consoles, he began to pace in a small tight circle, his head bowed, hands locked behind his back.

Tempted to do the same, Alerik forced himself to stand with Morgon. Sharm was fighting a savage internal battle. The post-Conflict beliefs on which they'd been raised were being put to severe test. The Coalition Council had seemingly failed a key challenge and, worse, turned a blind eye.

The Vision was crumbling.

Bound to duty and, by nature, loyal to his core, Sharm would resist acknowledging these apparent failures with everything in him. Part of Alerik desperately wanted to stand guard over the same beliefs, reluctant to relinquish the convictions of a lifetime and the future his parents had worked so hard to help build for a galaxy.

But a part of him was increasingly persuaded. When had he crossed over from skepticism to this budding acceptance? When had the first doubt even set in?

Maegan, of course, had shaken those beliefs ever since he had arrived on Grogon. But if he were truthful with himself, the doubts had surfaced long before his assignment as governor. And been firmly repressed. His training, position, and charted future demanded it.

"He's a good man," Morgon said. "With understanding, he'll accept the right choice."

"There is no choice. I cannot leave Maegan at their mercy. I see only one option."

Morgon nodded, an almost imperceptible movement. He stood two steps closer to Alerik.

Alerik hadn't been aware of him moving.

"Commander Foster is right. Their demand is unacceptable and, without question, will set us on a path to war. The children have become irrelevant to them and perhaps always have been. It's possible they sought something else when they came here. What do you know of the Taragon priests?"

Suddenly impatient, Alerik shook his head and turned away. "Very little. Does anyone really have knowledge of them? Their origins are obscure. What is known is that they controlled the Taragon armies during the Great Conflict."

A stray memory suddenly blotted out other thought. Priests had taken his mother once, a long time ago. Before he was even born. They had almost destroyed her. But they hadn't been Taragon. They had been from a rogue clan of Soron.

A chill chased down his spine. Why had that memory surfaced now? There was no connection. Soron and Taragon had been enemies in the Great Conflict. Taragon had stood alone. They had had no alliances.

He forced the memory aside, and stared through the plexiwall at the Taragon vessel, trying to convince himself that Maegan was faring well enough, because he couldn't bear to imagine anything else.

"She's right." He felt as if an enormous weight bore down on him, crushed the breath out of him, and shattered the beliefs of a lifetime. "Maegan's right and you're right. They don't want to be integrated, do they?"

"Not the priests, no. I believe they have psychic abilities, Alerik, beyond anything we recognize. They're symbiotic. Their power feeds on power. And that is why Commander Foster is right. Give them an heir to the Mariltar nation, and

war not only is inevitable, but I fear the impact on their abilities."

It was an outrageous theory and one that Alerik couldn't force his mind around. "I want her out of there now," he snapped. "I don't care how it's done, as long as it's done with no harm to her."

"Then negotiate. They're not ready for war. Their armies aren't ready. Let's see if they'll settle for something less than a Mariltar heir."

* * * *

It felt like someone had taken a jaghammer to her skull. Maegan cracked open her eyes, but even the dim light in the room was too much to take and she closed them again before she could make out where she was.

Someone murmured, "Sleep". She felt a pinch beneath her ear and then, blessedly, the pain began to recede.

She awoke gasping for breath. Her heart pounded. Some part of her consciousness screamed at her to run, but couldn't tell her why; shrieked at her to escape, but couldn't identify from what.

She jerked upright. A shard of pain pierced her skull, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. The room was pitch dark. She threw off the light cover that was tangled around her legs. She was naked.

Something moved beside her. Panicked, she rolled, desperate to get away. A hand clamped down on her thigh.

"Maegan."

She knew that voice. It penetrated through fear and desperation and made her pause, although every instinct still clamored for her to run.

"I can't see," she whispered.

"The light hurt your head. One moment." A hoarseness roughened the familiarity of the voice. The hand on her thigh was warm and heavy and somehow soothing.

The thudding of her heart calmed. The rushing in her ears diminished. A low glow appeared and gradually brightened.

"That's enough for now. How's the pain?"

She turned her head. "Alerik?"

He sat behind her, just visible in the low light, large, solid, a haven from fears she couldn't quite grasp or understand. She flung herself at him.

His strong arms closed around her and she pressed her face into the crease of his neck. His scent, the scent that was uniquely him, tiug leaf and a light musk, enveloped her.

"Shh, my love, it's all right. I have you. You're safe," he whispered in her ear. His hand stroked her back and he pulled her more tightly against him.

She realized she was sobbing, great gasping sounds, but shedding no tears. Her body shook uncontrollably. His hand continued to stroke and he murmured nonsense in her ear.

"Where am I?" she choked out. "What happened to me?"

"We're on Pallas Five. You're safe in our habitat."

"Alerik." She pushed away from him slightly, and it seemed to take all her strength, but she wanted to see his face. "What happened to me?"

His eyes gleamed in the low light. He brought a hand up to lightly stroke her cheek. "Do you the Taragon priests?"

"They came for the children," she whispered, and the terrible panic beset her again, rushing in like a bellian wind from nowhere. Pain stabbed through her head again. "Where are they? Are they safe?"

"The children are safe," he said. "The priests don't have--"

"Why...why am I like this?" she asked. She held up her hand and tried in vain to hold it still against the tremors that shook it. "I've never, never felt such a terrible...fear before."

Alerik growled deep in his throat. He covered her hand with his and gathered her back against his chest. "The priests took you for a very short time, love. But you're safe now. I have you."

"What did they do to me?"

"They used a form of psych control. They--"

"Mind control? Why? What did they make me do?"

"We don't know. Perhaps nothing. They didn't have you for very long before we negotiated your release."

Maegan closed her eyes and tried to relax against Alerik's warm body, tried to absorb his strength and calm. But an urgent, throbbing sensation shouted something was wrong, horribly wrong.

And even more disturbing was the great gap in her memory. She ed nothing of which he spoke, yet she knew something was missing. Her last

memory was of her habitat on Pallas Four and Makiee's concerned face as he watched her...do what? What had she been trying to do?

Alerik's hand stroked through her hair and massaged her nape, bringing a too brief spurt of pleasure.

"How's the pain?"

She sighed and rubbed her cheek against the soft hair of his chest. "It comes and goes. It's not constant."

"The medtech said it might take a few days before it's completely gone." His hand tightened on her nape briefly. "Something that would please me greatly is that you try to stay out of clinics for a while."

"I don't do it on purpose," she protested.

"That's a matter of debate."

He shifted his body underneath her, and she realized with a tiny thrill that he was as bare as she.

"Let me rephrase that. Try to avoid doing the things that keep putting you under a medtech's care. How about that?"

"Sounds like a very boring life." A huge yawn took her by surprise. Her tremors had subsided. The urgent, hammering fear had calmed but, although the sharpest edges had been blunted, a sense of dread still lurked. A sudden exhaustion swept like a wave through her body.

"Got to sleep," she murmured.

"And here I was hoping for a round of hot, uninhibited sex."

Another thrill shot through her, but her body was without energy, drifting rapidly toward oblivion.

"Later."

* * * *

When she awoke again, natural light filtered through the partially open screens at the plexiwall. She recognized instantly that she was in the governor's habitat on Pallas Five.

She was alone.

She sat up with slow care, the memory of the awful stabbing pain all too clear.

Her body felt rested. The pain was absent, but from the recesses of her mind crowded the sense of something not right, a simmering fear, an indefinable threat.

It sent a shudder through her body. She pushed herself off the sleeping platform and hurried into the bathing chamber. Only when she was in there did she pause. What did she have to do today? Alerik was no doubt off performing his governorly duties. It was equally likely she was confined in the habitat.

A wave of paralyzing terror left her gasping for breath, reeling and leaning against the wall for . The fear was all-consuming. It invaded every pore of her body and raised the tiny hairs on her skin. It screamed for her to run to the safe room and barricade herself in.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed away from the wall and marched into the cleansing unit instead. She would not be afraid of something she couldn't even . Fear would not defeat her! She slapped at the control without checking and was hit by an ice-cold deluge.

Her shriek was answered by a deep chuckle. Alerik's hard body pressed behind her and prevented her escape, but his hand made quick adjustments to the controls to replace the icy stream with a soothing flow. He curved his arm around her waist and drew her back against his nude body. Fear was vanquished in an instant by a rush of pure, heated lust.

But she wasn't ready to give in that easily. She stiffened her body. "What kind of masochist," she stuttered, "uses ice water to bathe?"

He nuzzled her ear and slid his hand up her torso to curve it around her breast. Her knees struggled to maintain their stiffness.

"The kind," he murmured, as he tweaked her nipple gently, "who had to wait hours for you to wake up."

Her head tilted back against his shoulder of its own accord. She couldn't force it away. "I thought you were off doing governor stuff."

"Governor stuff? Governors don't do stuff." His fingers were working the hard nub of her nipple and sending streaks of fire throughout her body. He slid his other hand down to the vee of her thighs. "We make important life-altering decisions. We direct our universe. We arbitrate our neighbors' squabbles. People look up to us." He slid his finger into her.

Her legs buckled and she collapsed into him. "I didn't realize you were that important," she gasped.

He bit the side of her neck. The small pain speared straight to her groin. "That's been your problem all along," he complained. "You don't look up to me."

"That's not true." She tilted her head and slitted her eyes open. Warm water caressed her face in a gentle shower. "I'm looking up--oh!"

A second finger had ed the first. Her entire body shuddered. It would be so easy to give in, to go along with whatever he wanted to do, but a tiny voice of

sanity kept banging around inside her head. Part of her wanted to slap it away, but the part of her that made the logical decisions was more persistent.

He could have read her mind, or perhaps her body language changed because his fingers withdrew from her body, although his other arm stayed locked around her rib cage. He reached for the control . A bench slid out from the wall.

"Sit," he urged. "Let me take care of you."

Logic and sanity vanished. She couldn't fight this. She sat, lifted, opened, bent, turned at his soft commands. Her inhibitions seemed to have vanished. Her body did what he requested without hesitation. Her skin absorbed the pure pleasure of his touch and demanded more.

And he gave it. He seemed to know exactly where she wanted his touch, when she needed it. As his strong fingers massaged gel into her scalp, she closed her eyes against the exquisite sensation.

Firm lips feathered across hers, and sent spikes of ecstasy racing through her body. She moaned deep in her throat. He cradled her head with one hand while, with the other, he urged her to her feet and turned them both into the full spray of water. The scent of sweet plumani swirled around them in the steam-laden warmth as the gel washed away. Her knees had no strength.

He demanded entrance to her mouth. She opened and shivered as his tongue slid along hers and then back along the sensitive roof. She could feel the rigid length of his penis against her belly. Suddenly desperate to have him inside of her, she clung to his arms and pushed and rubbed herself against his water-slickened

hardness.

He growled, a long, low, primitive sound and clamped a hand on her bottom, not to stop, but to help her. The added friction was exciting and she spread her legs to gain even more . It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. She flung her arms around his neck to pull herself higher against him and lifted a leg to hook it around his hip. Without hesitation, his hands, both of them now on her bottom, helped to her.

The tender, sensitive flesh between her legs reacted with a burning jolt of pleasure. She whimpered into his mouth and dug her nails into his shoulders, as she squirmed and sought even more. But she couldn't leverage herself high enough against his body to achieve her ultimate goal and he wasn't giving her the boost she needed.

As her desperation began to turn to frustration, he took control again and she found herself, both feet on the floor, turned to face the wall.

"Bend," he commanded, his voice hoarse, and his hand on her nape urged her over. She placed both her hands flat on the bench to brace herself. He grasped her hip with one hand and slid the other between her legs, over the sensitive flesh. He rubbed the small bundle of nerves, which almost made her collapse, then pressed a finger into her vagina, before pulling out and trailing it up along her crease to rub it over the equally sensitive ring of anal flesh.

Everything in her stilled and, for an instant, she was poised on an edge of uncertainty, not sure of his intent, not sure if she wanted to walk down an untried path. But again, he must have read something in her body language, because the pressure on that sensitive place vanished, and he bent over her and slid an arm around her to cup her breast and thumb her nipple. His knee urged her legs

further apart and she felt his penis slide against her.

"Some things," he murmured in her ear, "are to be taken slowly, but should be tried at least once."

The dark promise in his voice sent a deep shudder through her body, and then she shuddered again in anticipation as she felt him reach to adjust himself at her entrance. The thick head of him stretched her opening. His hands held her hips steady when she would have squirmed against him in impatient demand.

Then he hammered forward and seated himself in one hard thrust. She cried out at the searing explosion of sensation. He cradled her upper body and uttered nonsense in her ear as her body adjusted to his invasion. Discomfort faded and she began to squirm again, hampered by her position and his hold.

"Impatient," he growled. He pushed aside the wet weight of her hair and licked her nape, and she couldn't believe how sensitive it was. If he hadn't had a firm grip on her torso, she might have collapsed over the bench. He began to move in short little thrusts, each one not enough, but every one sending exquisite prickles racing through her body. Then he reared back and plunged. His hips slammed against her bottom again and again, and her restrained whimpers became cries that she couldn't control.

And nothing mattered, nothing but what he did to her and made her feel, nothing but this building, expanding wave of all-consuming ecstasy that tore through her and pushed her over the edge.

As her body succumbed to pleasure, and the orgasm rolled through her, Alerik's

hands clamped more tightly around her hips. He pistoned into her. Guttural groans ed her own dying cries. His hips slowed and then stopped and he bent over once more, panting heavily. But when he touched his lips to her nape, her body still reacted with a shiver and she mewled. He pulled from her body and guided her gently upright. Turning her to him, he drew her into his arms.

She knew she was safe. And she knew there was no place else she wanted to be.

Chapter 18

Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising Pallas Five

"Maegan, what's wrong?" Makiee's voice, raised in panic, spiked the excruciating pain in her head up another notch. There had been no warning. The sudden attack had come from nowhere, and it had bent her across her console in absolute agony. But worse than the pain, far worse, was the memory that had accompanied it.

"Maegan?"

She had to get rid of Makiee.

She lifted her head with slow caution. Surprisingly, the pain eased a little, although the memory, ugly and soul-destroying, was etched in her mind.

A caricature of Makiee's young face filled the vid screen. His eyes bulged. His forehead was heavily creased.

"I'm all right," she managed to gasp. "Can we finish this later? You're headed in the right direction."

His face retreated from the screen as he sat back and scowled. "Don't look all right to me," he muttered. "Looks like someone shot you full of droxin. Has it occurred to you that this marriage partnership isn't good for your health? Has he done something to you again? Because if he has--"

"Thank you, Makiee," her husband, who was supposed to be gone for the better part of the day, drawled. "I believe this meeting is over." He reached around her to flick off the link, then crouched down beside her. He smoothed a cool hand across her burning forehead.

"I would hate to have to issue a mate-challenge to that young one. He has a serious case of moon fever."

A short laugh erupted from her throat as she shook her head. The pain eased. She gave in to temptation and rested her face against Alerik's broad shoulder.

"I thought you had arbitration today," she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to exorcise the ugly image emblazoned on her mind. Horror that he had caught her at such a moment, before she had a chance to analyze and process the memory, warred with gratitude that he was there.

"I did. I'm learning. Delegated most of it back to the counselors. Lazy bams. They're sending me cases they have no business sending me."

"They're testing you."

"Perhaps." He paused. His fingers touched her nape and gently began to knead, sending slivers of pleasure down her spine. "More pain? You should be over the worst of it by now."

"I am. I just..." She opened her eyes and pulled away from him. It was a mistake. His sapphire gaze, all-knowing, all-seeing, drilled into her until she was certain he saw what was in her mind.

"I'm so sorry," she blurted, as agony squeezed her heart.

"For what?" The sapphire of his eyes and temple mark blazed a clear, bright blue. If he knew what she knew, that beautiful color would turn dark and menacing.

How could she tell him? And what would she tell him?

She had hesitated too long already. His mouth had tightened at the corners and his eyes had narrowed infinitesimally. The fragile, wonderful thing that had come into being between them in the last few days teetered on the edge of annihilation. And she only had herself to blame.

He had taken his cue from her. They hadn't talked about her time with the Taragon priests. The priests had released her. She knew the children were at a safe house. Beyond that she hadn't asked the questions, hadn't wanted the answers. And there were so many anomalies, so many things that didn't make sense.

Hot despair roiled in her stomach. All the physical pleasure, the laughter, the quiet conversations, the growing trust, the need to be with him, to touch him, to be loved by him--all they had experienced together in the last few days--it was all built on a sham. The future she had glimpsed, and never even knew she wanted, was in jeopardy.

But she knew she couldn't hide forever. And what would the truth cost her? She couldn't imagine how their relationship, fragile as it was, could survive this terrible knowledge she carried in her head.

"We need to talk," she whispered.

He nodded. His temple mark and eyes had gone to dark, shimmering sapphire. "It's time."

* * * *

Pallas Four had a growing galaxy-wide reputation for its scenic beauty, but Pallas Five had a few surprises of its own. As Drakal maneuvered the small transporter through a narrow opening into a deep, lush canyon cloaked with soaring bagan trees, Alerik glanced at Maegan.

She was hunched against the clear plexiskin of the vehicle, her gaze directed outside, but he doubted she really saw anything. Something was going on in her head. Something had been triggered this morning during her conversation with Makiee. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what. His surreptitious replay

of the conversation while she had been changing her clothes hadn't revealed a slieking clue.

She had resisted his suggestion of a picnic in the high country of Pallas Five, but he had been equally determined. He was courting her. Their relationship in the last few days had developed by leaps and bounds. He had seen the beginnings of trust, and something, some strong, pure emotion in her as she had clutched at him in the throws of ecstasy.

It was important to preserve what they had built at any cost. And so he stuck to his courtship plan even though this conversation was going to be brutal. He had information that would, at the very least, upset her. It would more likely enrage her, and engage with a vengeance the part of her that wanted to save the universe.

He wanted to reach for her hand, but refrained. Her body language was clear.

The transporter descended and glided to a stop at the edge of a small meadow.

Maegan lifted her head. "We're here?"

"Not quite," he said.

The hatch swung open and heat rushed into the vehicle. Pallas Five's double sun blazed directly overhead. Grogon's moon-sun was a mere shadow behind it. He stepped out onto the soft sponge of the fragrant meadow and reached to help her.

She accepted his hand, and stood quietly by his side as he collected two packs and spoke with Drakal and Corenna. They would remain close. It was the only way Sharm had agreed to the excursion. But he was determined they wouldn't be right on his ass. It was the only way he would agree to Sharm's condition.

Maegan at least was showing a spark of interest and looking around with curiosity. He picked up the lighter pack and held it out. "Yours."

She swung it over her shoulder without the smart comment he expected. His gut twisted again in anticipation of what was to come.

"This way." He set off toward the forest where a path through the trees was barely visible.

"They're not coming?" Maegan asked.

He stepped under the first tree and immediately felt a drop in temperature. "Four's a crowd, don't you think?" he responded, trying for a bit of levity.

Silence prickled behind him. He grimaced.

"They'll be around. They have orders to give us privacy."

The muffled thud of their boots on the soft path and the sough of the forest around them were the only sounds for the next few nans.

"How did you convince Sharm to do that?"

"He's an excellent second. He weighs the risks and he's reasonable."

"His job is to protect you with his life."

Alerik turned abruptly. "And now yours as well." He studied her upturned face. "There's nothing to fear here, Maegan."

An expression he couldn't read flitted across her face. She looked away and pushed past him. "Didn't say there was. I'm just surprised you were able to get rid of your bodyguard, that's all."

He decided to let her lead. They were close enough to their destination anyway, and the view was delectable. The sway and roll of her firm ass in tight breeches produced a twitch in his groin. It maybe wasn't his smartest decision of the day, but one he'd indulge in anyway.

"Just be clear on one thing, Maegan," he said, determined to make a point. "My team is sworn to your protection as well."

"Which means I can't go anywhere without a shadow." Disgust laced her voice. "I know, Alerik. I did go to the training and, contrary to what you may have heard, paid attention most of the time."

"So you did."

She was becoming argumentative, which he far preferred to withdrawn and secretive. She was more likely to divulge information. He pushed harder.

"Funny how that worked out. Instead of serving a term on my team as a bodyguard, my team now protects you. And any children we may have."

"Blazing starpits!" With the speed of a striking cobsun, she swung around. She poked a finger hard into his chest, and snarled, "Children? You're on blockers aren't you? Tell me you're on blockers."

"For now."

Her lips twisted and her nose wrinkled. Even in anger, she was adorable and he wanted to snatch her to him and ravage her mouth. "Don't ever touch me again." She slammed a hand against his chest for emphasis, then whirled and stalked off ahead of him again. "Children! I'd better not be pregnant," he heard her mutter.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" he asked, taken aback by her vehement reaction. He strolled after her, allowing her to increase the distance between them. "It's a normal course of events when two people enter into a marriage partnership. Our respective parents would be delighted with a grandchild."

"Normal? There's nothing normal about our--aagh." At the top of a small rise,

her hands flew up into the air and she disappeared from sight.

"Hunh," he grunted. "Must have forgotten to tell you about the ground around here."

He ambled up the hump.

In a small clearing surrounded by the giant bagan trees, she lay on her back, arms and legs spread wide, an expression of utter delight on her face. A thick layer of curly green and silver moss cushioned and undulated gently underneath her.

She rolled her head to look at him. "You brought me to The Lichs. I've heard about this. I've wanted to come here for so long."

He dropped his pack and bent to remove his boots, before sliding down beside her. The ground rose up to mold and cradle his body. "Does this get me some credits?"

"A few." She wriggled and stretched. "Not nearly enough to wipe out your deficit though."

He sighed and shoved his hands under his head. "Didn't think so." His body felt like a thousand fingers stroked through his clothes. The sensation wasn't erotic at all, just deeply soothing. "Want to get naked?"

He sensed the change in her immediately, even though they weren't touching. She sat up straight beside him. The face she turned to him was tightly drawn.

"There's something you need to know."

Beneath him, the ground stilled and the strokes against his body diminished. The whisper and sigh of the forest became almost inaudible. The trill of unseen creatures faded. It was as if the land waited with him for what she had to say. He reached for her hand, but she pulled away from him.

"I . I everything." She frowned. "I think." She twisted her hands together on her upraised knees and slid her gaze away from him.

"On the Taragon ship, there was a priest. A woman priest. Nargune."

Shock splintered through him. "Women priests are outlawed on Taragon. The elders themselves purged the temples."

"That's what I heard too. They didn't do a very thorough job." She had turned her head and he couldn't see her expression. Her voice wavered.

Alerik sat up. "It wasn't specifically a condition of the Treaty. It became a later addendum. The elders apparently felt the women had accumulated too much power. They weren't confident they could control the women priests, even by confining them to their temples."

Maegan hunched her shoulders. "In hindsight, I'm sure this one controlled the Taragon vessel."

If Maegan was right, this information changed things drastically. The power structure on Taragon was not what it seemed. The elders seconded to the Coalition Council were out of touch. Morgon's covert operation had just quite possibly gained legitimacy.

He stood. It was imperative this stunning piece of information be shared with the Council. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Sure? What do you mean?"

"Sure of the priest's gender?"

His wife hunched in a ball at his feet. She hid her face in her knees. "Of course I'm sure. She did things to me." Her voice was whisper-soft.

"What?" Cold unease slid down his spine. The Council and the galaxy would have to wait. Slowly, he sat down beside her again. "What did she do?"

Maegan's fists clenched. Her body trembled, but she raised her head and looked him in the face. A desperate sadness clouded her eyes and made his heart clench in his chest, but her face also bore a look of fierce determination.

"She made me b-be intimate...she made me..." Her features twisted. She sucked in a noisy gulp of air. "She made me have...have sex with her."

Whatever he had expected, it wasn't that. He tried to process the information and found himself struggling to wrap his mind around it. "She hurt you?" There had been no physical trauma to her body, no pain except for the headaches.

"No. I...she...I enjoying it. How could I?" The last was a wail of desperation.

He caught her arms. "She had you under psych control, ?"

"I know, I know. I can't get it out of my head. I feel...v-violated." She clutched back at him. Her nails dug into his flesh through the sleeve of his tunic and pulled him back from the edge of a vortex of gathering rage. "I can't make it go away."

"You were raped." He forced his voice to a soothing calm he didn't feel. "We'll get help, love."

"Alerik, I..." She stopped and looked at him in desperation, her eyes large and moist with emotion.

He tamped down the violent urge to destroy something, and gathered her face gently in his hands. "This has nothing to do with us, with you and me," he said. "It changes nothing about our relationship. Understand?"

"But it does," she objected. "How could it not?"

"No. It doesn't. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

She shook her head and tried to pull away. "I can't--"

"Don't, Maegan." He had to make her understand. "You and I have something extraordinary. You may have resisted it at the beginning, but after the last few days, can you really deny it? Nothing will take that away from us. Nothing. We'll get help for this."

She looked at him wide-eyed. Something shifted in her expression. The stiffness of her body beneath his hands eased. She gave a tiny nod of her head. Shadows still lurked in her eyes but she no longer looked like she was about to shatter.

"Let's spend a little time here, at least," he said quietly. "It's beautiful and peaceful. Let's just enjoy it for what it is." His own urgency to return and report had faded. A few hanans would make no difference.

It wasn't until much later, when they were back at the governor's habitat, that she asked the question he had dreaded.

* * * *

The moons of Pallas Five were an odd bronze color tonight.

Maegan leaned her head against the high back of the bench in the courtyard to study the streaked sky. A storm was on its way. The bellian winds were beginning to blow. Even protected as she was by the walls of the courtyard, she felt her hair stir and the brush of a stronger gust across her cheek. She would have to go in soon.

As soon as they had arrived back at the governor's habitat, Alerik had gone off to some meeting. She was grateful for the time alone. He had reacted with remarkable calm to her disclosure. An eerie calm.

She shuddered. Another gust of wind wrapped around her.

"Maegan, what are you doing out here?" Alerik strode down the path. "These winds are about to explode. Come inside."

"Why did the Taragon priests let me go?"

"What?" He stopped in front of her, tall, solid. He held his hand out.

She ignored it and looked past him into a garden that was beginning to sway and bow to the demands of the elements.

"What reason did they have for letting me go? You didn't give them the

children."

"Let's go inside." He was impatient. "We can discuss it there." He reached for her hand.

She pulled away. It was somehow imperative he not touch her at that moment. If he did, she would give in to his demand, and she was afraid then she wouldn't be able to get to a dreadful truth that seemed to hover just out of her grasp.

"Tell me!"

His face was shadowed in the rapidly dimming light. A blast of wind slammed into them. He leaned over her and braced an arm against the back of the bench. He could have done it to protect her from the worst of the wind, but it felt almost threatening.

"There was an exchange," he said. "But not the children."

"Who?"

"Maegan... Balls of Sortor!"

Another blast almost knocked him into her.

"I tell you and we go inside. Immediately. Understand?" He was nose to nose with her. His eyes glittered. His voice was raised almost to a shout as the winds began their mournful howl.

She inclined her head in agreement. A terrible urgency clawed at her. Part of her shrieked she didn't want to know. She wanted to stay safe and insulated by her ignorance.

The warrior she had trained to be so long ago stood resolute and braced for an answer.

He moved his hand from the bench to grip her shoulder. "Morgon."

Nothing had prepared her for that knowledge. Shock ripped through her and tore into her heart. "Nooo!" she heard herself scream. The sound was taken by the wind and tossed to the skies.

Alerik grabbed her, jerked her to her feet and tugged her down the path. She went without resistance, her mind smothered in a curious, heavy blankness, beneath which the implications writhed and struggled for life.

All around them, the wind tore at leaves, tossed branches and howled its fury. Loud pops punctuated the howls. The sky was streaked with purple and crimson and an insidious, icy, yellow mist had moved in and blew with the wind.

They reached the outer door. Alerik shoved it open and pushed her through. He

turned to secure it behind them. The abrupt cessation of noise left a hammering in her ears.

He swung around to face her. In the silence, his breaths sounded harsh and uneven. His expression was tight, his eyes dark.

"Up," he said.

She went, unable to force a single thought to her mind. Her husband stalked her past the empty rooms of the lower level of the habitat and stood behind her on the mobilstair, as if guarding an escape route. Lumens brightened and dimmed again with their age.

In the upper level hallway, she automatically turned toward the great room. Alerik's boots thumped behind her on the metaplat skin of the floor.

The lumens bloomed to full intensity as she stood in the middle of the room and willed the blankness in her mind away.

"It's my fault," she whispered. "It's my fault. It's my fault."

Hard hands caught her under her armpits as her knees gave way. Alerik pulled her back against him. For once, the solid heat of his body didn't, couldn't soothe her.

"It was his choice," he said. "And it was the right solution. The priests agreed to release you in exchange for hosting Morgon for a two-rotation. Everything possible is being done through diplomatic channels to secure an earlier release."

"Then why the exchange?" She tried to move away from him, but his arms tightened around her. "Why not use diplomatic channels to secure my release?" But she knew the answer. A rush of hot anger caused her to drive her elbow into his side and slam her heel down on his foot. It was enough to gain her freedom.

She whirled and thrust a finger in his face. "Don't you dare coddle me with platitudes," she shouted. "It isn't working, is it? How could it? And you all knew it from the beginning. How can you practice diplomacy with a sect that doesn't exist? How do you even find them? Even the Taragon elders are clueless. They're gone from Pallas Four, aren't they? Did you put a tracker on them?"

Alerik's eyes glittered as he absently rubbed his side. "It was a condition of your release that we let them go. The tracker lost them early."

"Of course." In an instant, anger evaporated to be replaced by fear and grief. "They'll destroy him," she whispered. "Two rotations is a long time and utterly meaningless. They won't return him alive. They'll strip his memories and his knowledge. Why did he do it? Nargune knows. She knows he's the mastermind behind the network that's been intercepting the children."

"Maegan--"

"No!" She moved back. She didn't want to be comforted. Couldn't bear the comion she saw in his eyes. "I did this. If I hadn't gone looking for him--"

"Quite possibly the result would have been the same. You were taken in the tunnel habitat. The priests had somehow discovered it when all our technology couldn't. They might eventually have found Morgon there, but they found you instead. They sought something or someone, Maegan, and we're becoming more convinced that it wasn't the children. They didn't leave Pallas Four after they took you. They only left after the exchange."

"When they had Morgon."

"Yes."

"We have to look for him."

"We let diplomacy do its work."

"They'll have taken him to The Divide." She didn't know how she knew that. She just did. Pain laced through her palms. She realized her fists were clenched so tightly her nails had bruised the tender skin.

Alerik shook his head. "Don't even think about it."

"I can find their base. Morgon described it to me once."

"Maegan!"

Alerik's tone would have made a subordinate shudder. It pierced her allconsuming determination.

He stepped forward to within a hand's breadth of her. It was a deliberate attempt to intimidate.

"You will do nothing," he said through gritted teeth. "The Council has been fully briefed. The diplomats are working on it. You will do nothing."

"Then he'll die."

"He had choices. We had choices."

"He didn't know about Nargune."

"It wouldn't have changed his decision."

"You don't know that. You don't know him." Anger was beginning to burn inside her again. She loathed this feeling of utter helplessness, hated the restrictions her husband placed on her. She should have been plotting a course to The Divide and sending messages to the relay network.

"I spent enough time with him to know that your safety would be worth any sacrifice he had to make."

"If our positions were reversed, he'd be doing everything to find me and free me. He wouldn't be leaving it to the slieking diplomats." Anger and grief raised her voice to a decibel level that stunned her. Appalled, she took some deep gulps of air to calm herself.

Alerik's expression was as threatening as she'd ever seen it. His eyes and temple mark were almost black, his nostrils flared, his lips narrowed and tight. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to him.

"We will find him," he bit out. His sapphire gaze drilled deep into her. His grip tightened to the point of pain.

"Leave it alone, Maegan. Leave it alone. You don't want to test me on this."

Chapter 19

Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising Pallas Five

"How's the miniature Alerik project coming?"

It was late morning, and Sharm Foster strolled into the small workout chamber as if he weren't hanans late for duty. Late for Sharm was unheard of. No doubt he had a mag-tight excuse, except Alerik didn't give a sliek. Nor was he in the mood to tolerate Sharm's goading.

Sweat soaked his body from the talweights. His biceps and thighs were beginning to burn. Time to stop. He had been at this too long and it hadn't helped. Nothing had helped. Worry for Maegan hammered at him in arbitration, stole his concentration in council and dug claws into his chest without warning. Neither arbitration nor council had gone well.

The workout chamber had been almost at capacity when he'd arrived. It had cleared out quickly and now, with the exception of Sharm, he was alone.

He glowered at his second from the talweight bench. "Nice of you to show up. Anyone brief you on your leisurely way in here?"

Sharm stopped before the refreshment dispenser. "Lagale," he ordered. It took only nanonans for the goblet to fill, but Alerik caught himself grinding his teeth.

His second retrieved the goblet and took a swallow. "Aah, just the thing." He resumed his stroll across the room. "Funny thing. Team's jumpy as jackburs this morning. Not much talk going on at all. Barely got a respectful greeting. Been gone a whole day too."

"Maybe it's because their team commander wasn't around for stratsec this morning."

"Did you fill in? That would explain it then." Sharm stood over him and regarded him with a perfectly expressionless face. Then he turned, pulled down the neighboring talweight bench and settled himself on it. He swung his ankle across his knee and took another swallow of ale.

"Was told to stay away from here if I valued my life. Why is that, I wonder?"

Alerik pulled at the bar, and refrained from grinding his teeth again. Sharm was baiting him. They'd been down this path many times. For some reason, unknown at present, Sharm was trying to make him lose his composure. He was neither in the mood, nor did he have the patience today.

He switched tactics. He let go of the bar, leaned back on the bench and folded his hands behind his head. "Was she worth disciplinary action?"

"Sliek, yes!" Sharm fell right into step. His eyes lit up. "Think we could move the governor's seat to Pallas Four? There's no compelling reason, after all, for it to be on Pallas Five. Would make Maegan happy. Might encourage those miniature Aleriks to appear a little faster."

To his absolute amazement, Alerik felt his legendary patience splinter. "Enough!" he roared. He slammed his fist down on the bench. It was like watching someone else, yet he couldn't stop himself, couldn't grab back his control. "The galaxy is on the verge of descending into chaos again and you're off with a woman, neglecting your duty?"

To his credit, Sharm's expression displayed no satisfaction over achieving his objective. But then he shook his perfectly groomed head, shifted to a more comfortable position on the bench and clicked his tongue. "Figured the little Alerik project wasn't going that well."

Alerik shot to his feet.

"Did you know that Mistress Gloriana has quite an interesting background?" A grin still stretched across Sharm's face, but his eyes were watchful over the rim of his cup.

Anger instantly deflated, Alerik sank back onto the bench. "Fires of Crillac, why do you do this? Why do I put up with it?"

"Because it's entertaining--for me at least. It releases tension for you...and because I'm the best second you'll ever have."

"Sliek, that's debatable." Alerik rubbed at his throbbing temple mark. "You spent your day off with Mistress Gloriana?"

"Only part of it. There was this lovely little black-haired siren who can do things with her mouth that makes--"

The sound that left Alerik's throat was half-snarl, half-growl.

"All right, then." Sharm cocked an eyebrow. "Later?"

"Is Mistress Gloriana's background of significance or not?"

"Could be." Sharm set his cup down. "Turns out she was a temple slave." He flicked at something on his sleeve. "On Taragon. Toward the end of the Great Conflict."

Tiny hairs rose on Alerik's nape. "Sacred crystals!"

"That's not the best part." Sharm unfolded himself from his bench and stood. "She wasn't just any temple slave." He began to pace, hands behind his back, a sure sign he was deeply focused on his thoughts. "She served a woman priest and her young female disciple. Believe you may have heard of the disciple recently." He swung to face Alerik.

"Nargune." Alerik stood as well. Bile rose in his throat as he ed Maegan's utter repulsion over what had been done to her. Adrenalin raced through his body. Somehow he wasn't surprised that Sharm was steps ahead. "You were briefed."

Sharm spread his hands. "I serve you. I can't do that well if I'm not informed. Corenna ed me after you informed the Council and briefed the team."

"What made you go to Mistress Gloriana?"

"Body language."

"Body language?"

"Her body language was off when the priests were on Pallas Four. Their presence was more than just a nuisance to her. She was concealing fear and panic, and she did it very well."

"Not well enough."

Sharm shrugged. "I would have questioned her eventually. The communication from Corenna just sped it up."

"Mistress Gloriana doesn't strike me as the chatty type."

His second grinned. His handsome face transformed into mischievous boy. It was one of the reasons people underestimated him. "She's chatty all right. Just takes the right incentive."

"Don't want to know." Alerik slashed a hand through the air.

"Huh. Definitely not a good morning in the land of marriage partnerships...or is it the-- All right, all right." Sharm snickered. Not one of Alerik's other subordinates would have dared push as hard. And Sharm was pushing hard today.

"She was liberated when the Treaty stripped the priests of their powers. Took one of the first Coalition transports off Taragon. Had nothing to her name. Everything she has on Pallas Four, she's built with sweat, bribes, her brains, even her body."

Once again, Alerik had to tamp down on a too swift rise of impatience. "Nargune?"

"Oh, right. Nasty piece of toble, that one, even as young as she was at the time." Sharm was suddenly deadly serious. "Contrary to what we believe, to what the Coalition believes, it seems the male priests might not have wielded the power. Gloriana called the woman priest she served the sha-priestess, the one who controlled ultimate power. Nargune was in training but, frankly, Gloriana seemed more terrified of her. Wanted to know if anyone knew if she was still alive. Went so far as to say the only way the galaxy would know peace is if she was destroyed."

"And she has Morgon."

"Instead of Maegan," Sharm replied swiftly.

"Maegan knows she has Morgon."

"Thought the plan was to keep that from her?"

"She asked. I couldn't lie." And he should have. Should have lied to protect her. She might have forgiven him. Eventually.

"And knowing Maegan, she's wants to mount a rescue?"

"Yes."

"Have a feeling," Sharm said quietly, "that Morgon, certainly more than you or I, knew what he was getting into. He did it for Maegan. Just a guess, but I think he knew he might not come out of this alive, despite the assurances of a tworotation return."

Alerik turned to face the plexiwall and a view that didn't . His heart beat painfully in his chest. His head ached. "I can't clip her wings forever, Sharm. It would destroy her."

And it would destroy him to lose her. The worst of it was, he might already have lost her. She would never forgive him if anything happened to her uncle. Of all the decisions he had made in his life, consulting the Match Key was quite possibly the most ill-judged.

* * * *

An ime.

Maegan didn't know how much more testosterone and male posturing she could take. The small room reeked of it. A laserray couldn't fry it.

In her view, the solution was clear. None of the males in the conference room in the security center on Pallas Five agreed. Nor could they agree on a compromise.

The worst offenders, Alerik Mariltar and Sharm Foster, seated across the wide console from one another, would have been a hairspit away from coming to blows if not for their over civilized upbringing.

Maegan couldn't stand it. She had twice been on the verge of yelling that the protocols and mores of the Mariltar Nation had no place on this tiny asteroid on the fringe of the galaxy, where counselors often looked the other way as known pirate traders mingled with law-abiding travelers and tourists.

A good knock-down, knock-out fight would do both men a world of good. But

no, body language aside, they used the polite words of diplomats, which was getting slieking nowhere.

Yet despite her own simmering emotions, Maegan eyed Sharm with a grudging respect. He seemed totally immune to the icy anger emanating from Alerik, and hadn't backed down from his own predictable, totally conformist position: any initiative, scout party, rescue mission or otherwise, required a mandate from the Coalition Council since one of the nine nations was in this up to their collective eyeballs. The other men and one woman, besides herself, at the table had long since refrained from offering their opinions.

And there was something she didn't understand. A persistent feeling she wasn't being told all there was to know about her exchange with Morgon. So if others could keep secrets, she decided, so could she. She tuned out Alerik's current argument for launching a covert mission across The Divide to focus on the problem.

Why would Nargune accept Morgon as a substitute for six children? Had Morgon been the target all along and Maegan herself an unexpected means to that end? Why would the priests want Morgon? True, he was the architect of the rescue operation, but he hadn't had any day-to-day involvement for a good long while, and the network was well enough established with dedicated volunteers to continue the missions without interruption. They'd been outwitting the Taragon patrols for longer than a rotation. Nothing about that would change. But the priests wouldn't know that. With Morgon out of action, it's possible they believed the problem solved.

Something still didn't add up. Maegan rubbed her temples. A headache was beginning to develop, a regular occurrence since her abduction.

The flat screen embedded in the console in front of her bore an image of the Grogon Belt. Her mind automatically began to plot a flight path. Forget the mandate from the Coalition Council. Wouldn't happen in a lifetime, and what were they supposed to do in the meantime? Sit on their hands and assure themselves Morgon was all right?

Forget Alerik's scout party too. As soon as the scout vessels crossed out of Grogon airspace, the governor had no authority. Alerik would be putting his career and his team at risk, although loyal as his team was, they all, with the exception of Sharm appeared more than willing to go along with his proposal. Corenna and Drakal were visibly revved by the prospect.

She was certain Morgon had left his vessel at the smart dock. She was equally certain the Mariltar team hadn't discovered the structure when they had investigated his habitat. The technology would have generated an excitement that would have filtered into the discussion at some point. The navigation console in Morgon's vessel could have information on the route across The Divide. It was the only place to start, even though they didn't have a slieking dewring where Morgon had been taken.

She could hardly launch a mission onto Taragon itself.

Once again, she'd have to figure out how to evade Alerik. It became harder every time.

She glanced up from the console. Her gaze collided with sapphire blue.

Alerik's eyes narrowed. Fascinated, she watched as they turned smoky. In the

background she was aware of Sharm talking. He was apparently holding a conversation with himself because, Alerik, now focused on her, was clearly no longer paying attention. A quick look around the table showed the rest of the team openly watching either her husband or her with expressions ranging the gamut from amusement to concern.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It."

An abrupt silence fell, followed by a heavy sigh and a creak as Sharm leaned back in his chair.

Maegan wrinkled her nose. "Last I heard, the Lady Melia was in assorted pieces on the Pallas Five dock. How could I?"

"You've resorted to bribery before."

"And now my head shot, I'm sure, is available to pirates and law-abiding captains alike."

Someone started to laugh and covered it with a cough.

Alerik leaned forward. "With your extraordinary range of talents, wife, I wouldn't be the least surprised to learn you can hack-jump a vessel."

Maegan blinked. She and an ambitious group of four others, also chafing at the

restrictions imposed by the academy, had set out to impress an instructor by hack-jumping his vessel. They had succeeded with the hack-jump. The instructor hadn't been impressed. He'd been furious, and they had suffered the rest of the rotation without a single privilege. The incident had certainly made it into her permanent record. So Alerik knew she could hack-jump a vessel.

"Is that even possible?"

This time, the snickers were audible and there was another heavy sigh from the other end of the table where Sharm sat.

Alerik's eyes darkened, then cleared to brilliant sapphire. He sat back. "You're right about one thing," he said. "Every dock in the Grogon Belt has your head shot, your eye scan and your hand scan, as well as a "deny access" order on you."

It was nothing less than she'd expected. "Well then," she said, "I'll just have to check with Makiee to see if the ID exchanger is ready yet."

"I don't know what that is. I don't want to know what that is." Alerik's eyes glittered in sure warning. "You will do nothing. You are confined here on Pallas Five." He turned to Sharm. "Initiate communications with the Council. My patience has its limits. I won't wait forever. I want action from them, and I want it immediately, not endless debate about the consequences."

If Sharm was surprised at the governor's sudden capitulation, he didn't so much as blink. "I'm on it," he said mildly. He spoke to Alerik but his gaze rested on Maegan, his message unmistakable.

The testosterone had reached unbearable levels, and it was all directed at her.

"Keep me informed." Alerik rose to his feet and reached for her.

She slid sideways a bit on her chair, just out range. He may have arrived at a decision, but she still sought answers. "Does anyone," she asked, "know what happened to the children?"

It was Sharm who answered into the silence. "Morgon had them," he said. "He did tell us that much. We assume they're safe."

The relief was enormous. She sank back into her chair and savored a moment of pure peace. Morgon must have put them back into the network. How he had removed them from Alerik's custody, she didn't know, but he, of anyone, was capable of that incredible accomplishment.

A hard hand tightened around her elbow.

"We have an appointment," Alerik informed the room at large. "Please excuse us."

Chapter 20

Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising Pallas Five

"What appointment? And why are you running?" Maegan pulled back and tried to free her arm from his grasp.

He tightened his grip and gave her a little jerk for emphasis. "I'm not running, merely moving at a fast pace. Do try to keep up, or we'll be late."

"Late? Late for what?"

"Our appointment."

They reached a lift tube that already held several people. Alerik pulled Maegan onto it, with a nod of greeting to the surprised occupants, and keyed in their destination.

Her lips were pressed tightly together. Her eyes flashed irritation. He could have taken her the more private route available to the governor, but this way was shorter. He didn't think she'd cause a public fuss, but didn't really care. His whole being was focused on getting her to their bedchamber fast.

Why was it that any sign of rebellion in this slender woman raised such instant boiling lust in him? He had known the moment she began to plot in the conference room, and had watched her for a few nans, as lust surged through his body. Anyone else would have assumed she was paying attention to the conversation, but he saw the small signs--the slightly glazed eyes, the finger fiddling she did when she was deep in thought.

Maegan wasn't the only one with a plan. He had his own ideas about the Taragon problem and Morgon. Let Sharm pursue diplomacy. If, by some miracle, the diplomats were able to negotiate an agreeable solution without taking a tenrotation to do it, so much the better. Experience dictated a back-up plan was critical. Sharm would be suspicious of his sudden capitulation. He would have to deal with that. Later. He had more immediate concerns.

Two people exited the tube, leaving two behind. Maegan shifted and stepped back. Her ass snuggled just below his groin. Her scent, today a heady blend of ama oil and something he couldn't place, made every nerve in his body stand at attention. Her weight settled onto his foot. A fake smile was pasted on her face.

He growled in her ear.

"He's late for an appointment," she announced to the two strange women. "It makes him cranky."

They giggled but didn't respond, young enough to be uncertain and a little in awe of finding themselves in close proximity to the governor and his mate.

The lift tube slid to a halt again. He wrestled Maegan forward, his hand in the small of her back overcoming her contrary resistance.

"Cranky," he murmured, as he marched her up the steps leading to the governor's habitat. "Is that what it is?"

"Why are we here? Thought we had an appointment?"

"We do." He laid his hand against the and, when the door released, tugged her inside.

He let her go.

"Take off your clothes."

"What?" Her outrage was gratifying. "This was the appointment? You want sex?"

He ripped at the fastenings of his tunic. "Can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing right now."

Her eyes widened. Her face turned bright pink. "We're supposed to be making a plan to rescue Morgon."

He dropped his tunic on the floor and toed off his half boots.

She retreated a step.

"Sharm is handling it. I trust him implicitly."

"Your second is rallying the diplomats who don't know the meaning of expediency," she shouted. "Look how long it took for diplomacy to end the Great Conflict. Don't you dare take off those breeches!"

"You're getting a little behind," he pointed out. "I might have to help you." He dropped his breeches. They fell around his ankles. He kicked his feet free and stepped forward, unencumbered by clothing.

Maegan gave a squawk. Her gaze fell to his groin. He saw her throat work. She appeared mesmerized. Struck silent with awe.

"Better," he encouraged. "But you're still overdressed."

It broke her trance. She tore her gaze away, turned and raced for the bedchamber. "Stay away from me," she shouted. "Go do what governors are supposed to do this time of day. Or do something to free Morgon."

"I'm working on that, believe it or not," he muttered under his breath, as he stalked her into the very room where he wanted her to be. Except that she hadn't

stopped there. The rarely used back entrance was open and, through, the wide plexiwall, he could see the top of her shining blonde head bobbing down the steep, winding stairs that ended at a grove of giant granyon trees. Beyond them was a narrow, rocky, barren beach, which edged a small lake. It was the quickest way into the city from the back of the governor's habitat.

How and when Maegan might have figured this out, he didn't know. It was his mistake that in his haste to satisfy his raging lust, he had disengaged the habitat's full security system. Of course, Maegan had noticed. Or simply taken a chance.

He had a dilemma. He could hardly go chasing after her with a full hard-on and without a stitch of clothing. It wasn't dignified. Then again, the chances of anyone being on the beach were slim. He solved the problem by snatching up a piece of discarded clothing from the foot of the sleeping platform and wrapping it around his waist on his way outside.

Maegan was almost to the bottom of the stairs. She glanced up, and his heart stuttered as she stumbled and teetered on the verge of pitching face-first down the remaining steps. She recovered and bounded the rest of the way with the fluid grace of a six-legged margrain.

On the path, poised to fly, she turned again. Even from halfway up the stairs, he saw a most peculiar expression on her face, but then she whipped her head around and took off through the grove. Her progress was uneven and suspiciously slow, and he easily caught up with her before the beach even came into sight. She was doubled over gasping, her hands on her knees, her hair tumbled in light-filled silken disarray around her face.

Again, his heart cramped. Her health was so fragile. The medtech had cleared her for normal activity, but still...

"Maegan..."

She lifted her head. Her gaze locked onto his groin and what he'd assumed were gasps for breath became whoops of laughter.

He looked down. The garment he had snatched was hers, a pale pink transparent overwrap that did little to accomplish the purpose he had intended.

His concern alleviated, lust roared back full force with the accompanying singleminded craving to be where he could do something about it. He snatched her up and tossed her over his shoulder, ignoring her strangled shriek of protest. His bare feet stung from the tiny, sharp ridges in the shal path, and he gained the smoothness of the stairs with great relief.

His mate stopped laughing and began to squirm as they neared the top. Out of patience, he delivered a hard whack to her ass and was rewarded by another squawk.

"There are laws, Governor, against spousal abuse."

Her booted foot thumped perilously close to his groin. He felt a brief pressure at his waist, then suddenly the fabric wrap was gone and his ass was bare to the breeze.

She released a breathless hoot of triumph and squirmed harder, but by that time

they were steps away from the entrance to the sleeping chamber. Once inside, he had enough presence of mind to code-secure the entire habitat. Unless, she could read his mind and extract the code, she wouldn't be getting out again.

He dumped her none too gently on the bed. Before she could recover, he clamped down on her legs and jerked her boots off. He sent them flying across the room. Her screech of outrage was muffled in the covers as he flipped her over and pulled at her leggings.

It was enough. He grasped her hips and raised her bottom in the air. He slid a hand between her legs to check her readiness and was gratified to discover the moisture at her opening. He slid a finger inside of her, then another. She had become curiously compliant. Her face was still buried in the bedding, but he thought he heard a little moan.

He couldn't wait another nan. He shifted closer, used his knees to widen her thighs, and rubbed his penis against her slick sex. The skin of her bottom was smooth and soft as gral. His hands adored the rounded contours. She moaned and bumped back against him.

He leaned over her, letting her feel his weight, as the thick head of his penis began to penetrate her body. Brief regret whispered through him that he hadn't taken the time to remove the rest of her clothes. He wanted the smooth warmth of naked skin against his belly and chest.

His weight was no deterrent. She squirmed harder, impatient with his slowness. A backward thrust of her hips lodged him partway in tight heat. He gritted his teeth. The impulse to give in and pound his way to quick completion was a tempting starspit away, but it wasn't what he wanted.

He pulled back until just the head of his penis was still inside her, and lifted himself from her.

"Up." He slid an arm around her waist and levered her until they knelt back to belly. He used his free hand to turn and anchor her head against his shoulder. She gazed at him in wary surprise, her eyes half closed, her face tinged with a rosy blush.

In this position, it was easy to strip her of her tunic. With another swift jerk, he freed her of her undergarment just as easily. Main goal achieved, the bounce of her pert little breasts was an added delight. He shifted her higher to seat her more fully on his jutting shaft.

"Now," he growled, as her heat encased him in blinding pleasure, "time to get serious." He smoothed aside the fall of her hair, and traced a path across the delicate curve of her jaw, the softness of her cheek, to the plump invitation of her lips.

She squirmed and nearly unseated herself. The friction sent a blast of pure fire through him. He clamped a hand at the juncture of her thighs and went to work with his fingers.

Her back bowed. "What are you--it feels--ah, mmph!"

The thrust of his tongue between her parted lips silenced her. As he ravaged her mouth, his fingers plucked at the tiny bundle of nerves between her legs and

circled where they were ed. He began to move his hips.

She moaned into his mouth, a breathy surrender that resonated through every nerve in his body. He moved faster, his hands holding her captive, his fingers working her soft flesh until she tore her mouth away with a cry. "I c-can't-please." Her body alternately strained forward then back against him.

"Yes, you can," he murmured in her ear. "Let go, love, let go."

He rotated his hips and thrust harder, tightening his grip as she struggled and tried to force him to allow her a more normal position. He nipped at her ear lobe and increased the pressure of his fingers. Suddenly, with a high, keening wail, she stiffened and jerked. Her inner muscles clamped around his shaft in rhythmic pulses. He pushed her forward and let himself go, pounding into her, until there was nothing but the searing hot pleasure erupting from his balls and consuming the very core of him.

Chapter 21

Margaine Confluence:/Sixth Rising Pallas Five

Alerik's voice, demanding something, penetrated the cocoon of sleep.

Maegan cracked one eye open. It was dark in the room. It was dark outside. She closed her eye again.

There was a rustle. A hand landed none too gently on her naked bottom. "Time to go."

She groaned and rolled into a ball. "Go 'way."

A snort of laughter came from her tormenter. "Morning is not your best time, is it?" He tapped her bottom again. "Up. We have to go."

She buried her face in her arms. "It's not morning. It's still the middle of the night. And I don't do anything in exchange for abuse."

Too late she realized how that could be taken. Too much to hope that Alerik wasn't paying attention. His chuckle was pure evil as he leaned over her. His hand stroked over her bottom in slow caress. "If only we had the time--"

It was obvious she wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon. She flung herself on her back. "What?"

"Mmm." He leaned in and stole a kiss that made her toes dance with delight. His mouth was fresh with the scent of sweet tiug leaf. His energy was palpable.

He pulled back. "Up," he repeated. "We have things to do."

She wasn't ready to cooperate. "Like what? Another fictitious appointment? Which really means sex? Your office, this time?"

Starpits! What was wrong with her? He didn't need more ideas. It was too dark in the room to see his expression, but pure sexual heat radiated from his body.

He gave a low chuckle. A dim lumen chased the darkness away. "I'm going to have to wake you up early more often. Your imagination and creativity is...fascinating." His gaze scorched a trail over her nude body.

He reached for her again, then sat back and shook his head. "No time, no time," he muttered. He surged to his feet. "You have ten nans to dress."

She sat up and crossed her arms. "I'm not doing anything until I know where we're going."

He turned and for an instant she quailed. His expression was unyielding and stern. It was the face of a warrior commander. Then his features softened. "You're about to get your heart's desire, mate. We're leaving for Pallas Four."

"Why?" she blurted, mistrust squelching a piercing shaft of reckless excitement. "Why in the middle of the night?"

Alerik had opened the to the storage cabinet, which housed her clothes. He began rummaging through it.

"You are the most contrary woman I know," he grumbled into the depths of cabinet. "One would think that you'd be overjoyed and anxious to go, since Pallas Four inspires your most interesting activities."

He stalked back to the sleeping platform and dropped a pile of clothing in front of her. The colors were neutral, the tunic and leggings nondescript. "Eight nans."

Her suspicions grew. She saw he was dressed in similar fashion. Nothing to distinguish the Mariltar warrior. Nothing to identify him as Governor of the Grogon Belt. Even his sapphire temple mark was hidden beneath the cap on his head.

What was he up to? This was not the conformist behavior of an heir to the

Mariltar nation. He had stepped back from the sleeping platform and stood, arms folded, legs braced apart, that arrogant Mariltar expression on his face, fully expectant she would comply. Part of her itched to test him further, but the excitement welling inside her screamed at her to seize the opportunity to return to Pallas Four. She reached for the clothing and began to dress, as questions swirled through her brain.

The questions multiplied at the Pallas Five dock, where Corenna and Drakal greeted them cheerfully from the navigation module as they stepped aboard an ordinary class three cruiser. He wasn't sneaking off without his team's knowledge, which she had half expected, but he definitely wasn't traveling as the governor of the Grogon Belt.

As they took off, he handed her a pillow and a cover, dimmed the lumens in the cabin, and actually informed her she could go back to sleep, before he removed himself to the third seat in the navigation module. She wrapped herself up in the cover and spent the entire trip, which ed far too quickly, scowling at his back and plotting her escape strategy on Pallas Four.

Alerik made it far too easy.

On Pallas Four, he sent her off to Janas Corporation with Corenna and Drakal as escorts, while he kept an appointment. It was still early in the day's cycle, and she had to wonder who made appointments at that barely civilized hour. As she walked through the front entrance at Janas, she tucked the puzzle away to think about later, and hurried to the main console to see who had checked in already.

There was a respectable list of employees in the building. More importantly, she saw the two names she wanted, and thanked the gods for a team who were young enough to need little sleep and who lived to out-compete each other. They would

also do anything for Morgon and, by extension, her.

She turned to her nursemaids and had to fight to hide a grin. They wore identical expressions of mistrust. They guarded the door as if they expected her to somehow blast her way through them and vanish. Corenna's hand rode his hip near his laserray. She wondered if he had orders to stun.

"Come along, boys," she said sweetly. "You're about to discover the fabulous secrets of Janas Corporation."

If anything, their expressions turned even more wary.

She couldn't resist and she would undoubtedly pay for it later, because Alerik would be informed and would not be amused. "Just curious. Do you happen to get special merits for this assignment and a bonus if you still have me at the end of the day?"

Drakal smiled a smile that was pure evil and sent a shiver through her body. "We're well compensated, lady, and have orders to do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes. Would not even think about trying anything, if I were you."

She waved a careless hand. "Oh, I've learned," she said with false brightness. "Your commander is a like a raging slaghorn to deal with and I've had too many painful lessons lately."

And let them reflect on that, she thought in silent glee, as she cleared them

through security. In this game, anything was fair to throw off their concentration, and she hadn't told a lie. She had merely delivered a confusing statement.

They were on her heels as she trotted down the hallway. For a nanonan there, the affable Drakal had become the hardened Mariltar warrior, highly skilled and trained in multiple disciplines, and she questioned if her plan was sound enough.

It had to be.

Besides, she was counting heavily on the nature of the young human male.

She led them to the highly secure coding lab. As the heavy door slid open, utter shock rooted her feet to the floor. The lab looked like a wilding wind had roared through it. Empty bottles and food containers littered every surface in a place where food had long been banned after someone had spilled sticky, liquid mascle over a secondary console and fried several cycle's worth of work.

An article of clothing decorated one of the wide screens. More clothing puddled on the floor together with three boots, one enormous, the other smaller two a matched pair. The small room reeked of a sickly combination of sweat and Merlon sweetbine.

In the middle of it all, Makiee, Shal-el and Bortock sat enjoying an early morning picnic, bare feet propped up on the central console.

"Maegan!" Makiee's feet thudded to the floor. He dropped the layered flatbread

he held out of sight and turned a wide, innocent gaze to her. "We weren't expecting you."

"Obviously," she said dryly. "Hope you can recover that. I would hate for it to go to waste, especially as it looks like you've been here all night."

"Had a coding problem." Bortock, unfazed at being caught in several violations, took another bite of slak fruit. "Just got it solved. We were celebrating before crashing. Have some?" He waved a bottle of red ale at her.

Makiee made a strangled sound. A startled expression crossed the Merlon's face and the bottle disappeared.

Shal-el, who appeared to have been dozing, suddenly woke up, caught sight of the group at the door and slapped Bortock's shoulder, almost knocking him off his chair. "Look who's here," he slurred. "Our Mariltar friends. Now we can really par..." His eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped in his chair.

Maegan felt like rolling her own eyes. She folded her arms instead. "Nimon here?"

"Down the hall." Makiee's gaze darted away.

The fastidious Soron, while a loyal team player, wouldn't have tolerated a less than pristine working environment. Makiee undoubtedly had shuttled back and forth between two rooms for most of the night.

"If you're finished here," Maegan said, "I need you and Nimon for just a little while. Perhaps Bortock and Shal-el can take charge of clean up before they go home?"

"Consider it done," Bortock shouted. He nudged Shal-el's shoulder with his bare foot. "You're in charge."

Shal-el responded with a drawn-out groan and the red ale bottle reappeared in Bortock's hand. Maegan had a feeling the regular lab crew, due at any time, was going to be in for a nasty surprise.

She nodded at Makiee, who had one boot on. "Meet me in the test lab as soon as you can."

"The test lab?" His head whipped up from his surreptitious search for, presumably, the other boot. He glanced at the two men at the door, then back at her, a question on his face. They never allowed outsiders into the test lab. Never.

She was about to break a cardinal rule, but it was the only thing she could think of.

She ignored his silent query. "I want to look over the nav package again," she said with complete truth. "Bring Nimon. Tell her I'd consider it a favor."

If Makiee was even more confused, he managed to hide it to his credit. He

simply nodded and resumed his search. The young Bogasill was learning.

She led Corenna and Drakal out of the lab and down the still deserted hall to a double set of doors at the very end.

"Whatever you're up to, Maegan," Drakal said over her shoulder, "it won't work. Not this time."

"Don't you feel even a little bit guilty about involving poor Makiee in your plots?" Corenna added.

"Makiee was only surprised because we never let anyone not from Janas into the test lab. It's a highly restricted area."

"Aah! And we're being honored because...?"

"I want to look at our nav package and I know better than to ask you to stay outside. You probably have this really odd notion we have secret tunnels leading out of every room in this place."

Drakal snorted and muttered something.

Maegan grinned to herself. "This is a true privilege, gentlemen." She paused at the doors and ran her hand over the scanner. "The disadvantage is we will wipe your brains when we're done in here." She turned and bared her teeth. "Still want

to come in?"

Two pairs of dark eyes gazed steadily back at her. Starpits! They weren't the least intimidated. That would be too much to expect from Alerik Mariltar's team.

She shrugged. "Welcome to the Cavern of Mind-Bending Mysteries." Bortock and Shal-el had come up with the name after spending an unauthorized night in the room not long after it had been reconfigured as a test lab. They'd been discovered flat on their backs babbling happily at the holographic shapes dancing above them.

At first glance, the lab was like any other room. Work consoles circled the perimeter. What wouldn't be immediately obvious to a casual visitor were the disks of various sizes set into both floor and ceiling toward the room's center. Drakal and Corenna weren't casual visitors. From her periphery vision, she saw them both study the floor. It was almost comical the way they glanced up at the ceiling simultaneously, then back at her. Drakal moved closer until she could feel his body heat.

All their vigilance wouldn't help them in the end. Time to implement the plan. Her escort at her back, she strolled the perimeter to a console halfway around the room and powered it up.

She logged into the program she wanted and was choosing her display options when Makiee and Nimon arrived.

In contrast to Makiee's spiked hair and general scruffiness, Nimon's sleek beauty glowed in the low lumens. Her dark hair fell loose to her hips. Her choice of

clothing was interesting for a work all-nighter--tight leggings, flirty little waist wrap that barely covered her bottom and a shimmering sleeveless vest designed to make one look twice for the delights promised by its seeming transparency.

Drakal and Corenna were more than looking twice. They were frozen in place to one side of her as Nimon glided in a direct route toward them through the disk field.

One look at Makiee's disgruntled face told Maegan that Nimon probably hadn't dressed that way for work. It was more likely she had made him wait while she changed, once she found out who Maegan had with her. The plan was off to a fabulous beginning.

Greetings exchanged, Maegan activated her program. Out on the disk field, a holographic replica of the Crestar System sprang to life. The hiss of amazement from one of the Mariltar warriors was gratifying. Holograph technology wasn't new, but this was the new generation, far above and beyond anything else in existence.

"Alerik," Maegan explained to Nimon and Makiee, "is on Pallas Four for a meeting, so I thought I would use the time to get some work done and check an anomaly I saw in the program the last time we tested it. Since it might take a while, and Corenna and Drakal are in here anyway, could you show them the disk field?"

"But of course," the Soron purred. "It would be a pleasure."

"Why are they so privileged?" Makiee grumbled. "No one outside of the

company has seen this yet." He stumbled as Nimon bumped him with her shoulder to get by. "Mag-sha!" He swung a hand up, then thought better of retaliation as Nimon impaled him with a glittering gaze.

"Don't worry," Maegan said cheerfully, "I told them we'd wipe their brains before they left here, and they still came in."

"What exactly are we going to be doing?" Corenna asked, his attention still glued to Nimon. She had stretched her body to open a cabinet and every slender line and gentle curve was on full display. She held the pose for longer than was absolutely necessary to retrieve the eyebands used in the disk field.

"Taking a tour of the Crestar System," Maegan explained patiently. "You'll be out there." She nodded to the disk field. "And I'll be right here. And the doors locked the moment the program activated, in case you're wondering. No one comes in or goes out."

"I don't trust her," Drakal said to his teammate. "Do you trust her? Think we should stay right here."

"Where's your courage, gentlemen?" Nimon cooed. She brushed between them and selected Drakal as her first target. Almost as tall as he was, she had no difficulty securing the eyeband around his head. "You don't want to miss out on this experience."

"Whoa!"

Drakal was hooked and Nimon was on board with the plan. Neither his eyeband nor the one Nimon was now securing to Corenna's head had been activated. While Maegan had remote control of the bands and could switch them on and off as desired, it was better that Nimon had figured out what she was up to and would be more prepared for what would happen in the disk field.

Makiee, on the other hand, was scowling at her. With the two Mariltar warriors fully focused on the wonders of the disk field even before they had stepped onto it, Makiee moved closer to her and murmured in her ear, "You're going to go too far one day, Maegan."

"This is for Morgon," she muttered back. "And when did you get to be so lawabiding?"

"Because you keep involving me in your freaky schemes, and that mate of yours is one scary friemon."

"Nah. Should have seen him yesterday in a pink breech clout."

Makiee's eyes bugged. Muttering under his breath, he snatched up an eyeband and followed Nimon and the two men onto the disk field.

With her nursemaids fully occupied, the first thing Maegan did was search for Morgon's vessel. If it wasn't at the smart dock, or anywhere else on Pallas Four, then the plan was useless. Morgon didn't make it easy. She patiently worked her way through all his safeguards and found the vessel where she hoped it would be--at the smart dock.

Then she went to work on the nav program. She had a three-dimensional screen view of the entire Crestar System similar to what was displayed in the disk field, but only needed a portion of it. She sliced out the piece she needed and focused on plotting her route.

Out on the disk field, Corenna and Drakal were beginning to stagger from the effects of the holographic field. Makiee and Nimon, their own eyebands activated to counter the effects, each held the arm of one warrior. Drakal went down first. Corenna followed him not long after. They lay on their backs on the floor, hands reaching randomly for shapes that didn't exist in solid form. They'd be there until the program was deactivated.

Task accomplished, Nimon and Makiee headed for Maegan.

"The Divide," Nimon hissed, when she saw the screen. "Maegan!"

"Morgon's there, I'm sure." Maegan said.

"So? Morgon goes freaky places," Makiee said. "Doesn't mean you have to. He'll show up here again eventually. He always does."

Blazing starpits! Of course they didn't know. Maegan took a deep breath. "A Taragon priestess has him."

"Taragon again?" shouted Makiee.

"Priestess?" said Nimon. "Taragon has a priestess? What does that mean?"

"We've learned it's women who control the true power in their temples, and have since long before the Great Conflict. We haven't understood their power structure at all."

"Maegan, you're scaring me," Nimon said. "The Treaty neutralized the power of the Taragon priests."

"Apparently not."

Nimon sucked in a noisy breath and released it. "The children. The relay network. Tabula--The Divide!"

Goose bumps raced over Maegan's skin. "How did...?" She looked at Makiee.

He raised his chin. "Morgon recruited her. He was worried about you. Thought you were taking on too much. She helped me sometimes with programming the routes." He gave Nimon a quick glance. "She knows pieces, but not everything."

Morgon's method of protecting his young recruits. Each had a piece of the puzzle, but not the whole. Including herself, it seemed. She wondered about Makiee.

"How many others?" She thought her head might explode. Too much intrigue and mystery. Too many slieking secrets. And her uncle was the biggest mystery of all.

"Bortock and Shal-el are the decoders. A couple others help out from time to time, but don't know what it is they're working on."

"What are they doing with the children?" Nimon demanded.

"Building an army across The Divide," Maegan said wearily.

The Soron spat out some words Maegan didn't understand, but she saw Makiee step back a pace. "And what is our esteemed Council doing about it?"

"They've yet to be convinced." Maegan tried to shut down the persistent part of her thoughts that kept scrolling through the list of Janas employees. Was everyone in on Morgon's scheme? Was Janas one big covert operation with technology creation a side venture? Or was it the other way around?

She couldn't think about that now.

Makiee grabbed her arm. "When you went into the tunnels and disappeared for a while, what happened? That's when Morgon showed up."

"The Taragon priests took me. The Mariltar team negotiated an exchange. Me for

Morgon."

"Morgon's idea," Makiee said softly.

"Maybe." Maegan closed her eyes for a nanonan and pushed the memories back. "It doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Whole thing's a blackhole nightmare, if you ask me," Nimon grumbled. She nodded at the console screen. "So you get to The Divide. What then? How by flaming firestones do you think you have any chance of locating Morgon?"

"I don't know," Maegan itted. "I thought I'd conceal the ship at orbit and watch the vessel activity for a while. See if I can determine any patterns and primary locations. If I can get close enough on the planet surface, I might be able to pick up his locator signal."

"Better!" Makiee said in sudden excitement. "He's testing the new one. He had it implanted a half rotation ago. If it's activated and working, you might be able to pick it up from orbit."

"What do you mean, "if it's working?"" Nimon demanded.

"It's...had a few problems." Makiee's excitement dimmed. "Think we got it fixed though."

"You should have had me look at it. I didn't know he'd taken it for testing. I thought it was still in development. I should have had the final say on releasing it."

"There wasn't time." Makiee shot a wild-eyed look at Maegan.

Nimon was working herself into an impressive rage. Her fists were clenched, her slender legs braced apart. As desperate as Maegan was to get back to the nav program, there was a certain fascination in watching the Soron. She felt a modicum of pity for Makiee. No one ever wanted to be on the receiving end of Nimon's displeasure.

"Morgon called it. It wasn't my decision."

Nimon stabbed a finger into his chest. "And you can't ever say no?"

"I--"

"Pah." Nimon suddenly switched her ire from Makiee to Maegan. "You're not going alone."

"Huh?" Maegan blinked, completely disoriented for a nanonan.

"You can't," Nimon shouted. "It's a suicide mission."

"So two people should go on this suicide mission?" The words popped out before she could stop them.

Nimon's body lost all its rigidity. "Maegan," she whispered.

And for the first time, Maegan realized just how scared the young Soron was behind all her bravado. She reached for her and hugged her.

"It's all right," she said. "I'm just going to observe and try to locate him. I won't try to free him by myself. I'll call in reinforcements if he's there." And hope that the Mariltar team would respond.

"You have to use the new locator as well." Makiee's tone was unequivocal. He wasn't giving her a choice.

She blew out a breath and nodded. "If you have one ready to go. I can't wait."

"I'll get it."

"I'll watch them." Nimon replaced her eyeband and moved out onto the disk field. Opening the doors would shut down the holo program momentarily, but not long enough for Drakal and Corenna to come out of their sensory-deprived hallucinations.

While Makiee was gone, Maegan double-checked her route, then sent the program to Morgon's vessel, Blue Zephyr. Once she was on board, she'd check it against the routes Morgon might have left stored in his vessel's nav memory, but she didn't want to take the chance he had erased everything as a precaution.

Makiee still wasn't back. On the disk field, Drakal and Corenna continued to play, watched over by Nimon. She and Makiee would have to deal with the two men when they'd been released from the effects of the holofield, and it wouldn't be pleasant. Maegan's twinge of guilt was tempered by the fact she now knew that Nimon as well as Makiee were in on the Taragon operation.

A blue light flashed on her console.

Maegan turned off the program and released the door.

As it opened, Makiee's slender figure appeared silhouetted against the light from the corridor. It was the much larger figure beside him that sent chills through her body.

* * * *

"This is safe." The flatness of Alerik's statement conveyed clear skepticism.

Maegan had opened the tunnel entrance in her office. Her mate eyed the tube pad like it was about to jump out and savage him. The tube felt claustrophobic to her with her slender body. His bulk would be a tighter fit. She had no sympathy to

spare. Her upper arm still stung where Makiee had shot the microchip under her flesh.

"No one has bashed their brains out yet," she said. "But you could always be the first."

Alerik grunted and turned a cold sapphire gaze on her. "When this is over," he said, "you and I are going to have a long list of things to talk about. Just out of curiosity, how long will it take Corenna and Drakal to recover?"

"Not long." They were probably flirting with Nimon already, even as they followed the orders Alerik had left with Makiee for them. To which she hadn't been privy.

For a split nanonan, the air between them simmered with palpable mistrust.

Alerik bared his teeth. "Let's go."

Maegan gestured politely. "You first. Just get off when it stops."

Alerik snorted. "Somewhere in the bowels of the planet? Don't think so. We go together."

"We can't!" Maegan was genuinely shocked. "It won't--"

"It's the only way we're doing this." Alerik took her hand in an iron grip and stepped forward. As he lay down on the tube pad, Maegan wondered wildly if she could push the control, and how bad a dislocated shoulder would feel. But then it was too late. He was pulling her face down on top of him.

"Let's do this." His breath warmed her ear. His body cradled hers. The comforting familiarity of it blended crazily with her heightened apprehension.

"Maegan?" Sweet tiug leaf scented the warm space at his neck.

"Blazing starpits," she whispered. Her fingers found the control. She paused, gritted her teeth and pushed.

The pad moved slowly, then gathered speed. With her face pressed into Alerik's neck, it was almost a pleasant experience. She waited for the terrifying burst of speed. Nans into the ride, she realized it wasn't going to come. The pad had adjusted to the weight it bore. She also realized that Morgon had probably never had the crazy speed experience she had had.

Beneath her Alerik shifted and adjusted his grip on her. His hand smoothed down across her bottom. Awareness dawned. There was burgeoning pressure on her thighs. The man was turned on!

"Unbelievable," she spat.

He chuckled and wriggled his fingers between her clenched thighs.

"Stop that!"

"Can't," he murmured. "The possibilities are too mind-blowing. Lift up a little. Too much in the--"

The pad slid to a halt. It took her a nanonan to realize they were already at their destination. She rolled off him. "You're insane," she yelled, and turned to punch the outside door control.

"Whoa." Alerik could actually be impressed by something, it seemed. It didn't soothe her frazzled nerves at all.

She stalked out onto the smart dock. "Hope a batriel doesn't get you." It was full daylight. Batriels hunted at night.

Alerik wasn't paying attention anyway.

"Morgon is going to have to give up this technology. We couldn't find this at all on our sensors. Amazing."

"You can stay here and ire it as much as you want." Maegan stepped onto the lift platform. "But I have things to do."

He was beside her before the platform started moving. For such a large man, it amazed her how quickly he could move. He curled an arm around her waist, which just irritated her more, and rotated his head to study everything he could as they moved up the smart dock.

On the Blue Zephyr, she half expected him to demand the pilot's chair, but he settled without comment into the secondary seat and gave his full attention to the view.

It was a sight that never failed to awe her either. Even as she went through her pre-flight check, she spared the time to watch as the smart dock lifted the Blue Zephyr past the jungle canopy.

The vessel was exposed and vulnerable in pre-launch stage. She half expected to see Mariltar scouts on her nav screen bearing down on them. She still didn't trust that Alerik had fallen in with her plan so completely. Not only that, he had demanded to accompany her.

She opened her nav program and searched for the last routes Morgon had flown that included The Divide. It appeared he hadn't erased anything. Two routes showed up, one from a planet she'd never heard of. The route from Pallas Four was almost identical to hers with the exception of the destination.

The Divide consisted of three small planets strung along the border of the Crestar System. Intelligence had placed the Taragon activity on two. The third remained uninhabited. It had been Morgon's destination.

"Why?" she muttered.

"Why what?"

She glanced at her enger. He was studying the screens as well. She wasn't used to a collaborator, but she might as well use him. In this, at least, he was on her side. "Why did he go here..." She pointed to the third planet. "...when all the activity is on the other two?"

"Try his log."

"He always erases the vessel's log after he arrives home and transfers the data to his vault."

"Try it anyway. Do you--?"

"I don't have access to his data vault." The log opened and, to her surprise, there was a string of entries.

Alerik grunted. "Nothing of note." Then he voiced her growing suspicion. "Seems fabricated."

She nodded. "But--"

Alerik's communicator released a low buzz. "What?" he barked. "We're about to launch here."

"Corenna, sir. We're being called to Pallas Seven. More trouble."

"Acknowledged. Inform Mistress Gloriana and have her send additional security to Janas Corporation. Get back there as soon as you can."

"Yes, sir."

"Why does Janas need additional security?"

"I don't know. Why would Janas need additional security?" Alerik impaled her with a cold sapphire gaze. "Could have something to do with half the staff being involved in Morgon's covert operations." He reached for his strap. "Did you know that Mistress Gloriana used to be a Taragon temple slave?"

"What?" The news was shocking, but what did it have to do with Janas?

Alerik finished strapping himself in. He reached over and grabbed her strap. "I think I understand now why the Taragon priests gave you up so easily for Morgon. They asked for me initially. It didn't take long to convince them to take Morgon instead. Think about that. A Mariltar heir or an all-but-exiled rebel, and they chose the rebel. If they wanted a bargaining chip, why give you up at all?"

Strap in hand, he began to lean across her. She snatched it from him, anger growing, questions spinning through her head, and secured it herself. "Why?"

"My meeting this morning was with Mistress Gloriana."

Maegan squeezed her eyes closed, gripped the arms of her chair and took a deep breath. Nothing made sense, and Alerik was pushing her past the edge of her frayed patience by providing answers that had no relevance to the questions.

"Who, Maegan, is the brainpower behind the Janas technology?" Alerik's breath whispered across her face. His words hovered in the air. Time slowed. She felt like she was struggling to emerge from a dream of nightmarish qualities. Alerik touched her arm.

"Blazing super fried starpits! They wanted Morgon all along. They want the technology," she gasped.

"That's what Mistress Gloriana and I think. Asking for me initially was just a ruse."

"But Morgon only provided the initial concepts. It was the team that... Gods!"

"Which is why Janas needs to be protected. They'll figure that out eventually."

"Morgon knew?" She felt as if her heart was cracking in two.

"Morgon undoubtedly knew."

"They'll destroy him when they don't get what they want."

"Give him credit, Green Eyes." Alerik ran a finger in a light caress across her chin. It almost undid her. She couldn't handle his comion right now.

"He's a wily crocane. He'll hold them off. Probably have them believing utter nonsense."

"Not Nargune," she whispered. "Nargune will know. She can read minds and she's evil."

Chapter 22

Margaine Confluence The Divide

Maegan was sleeping.

Alerik stretched his legs out and fought the urge to follow suit. His mate's sleep wasn't entirely natural. He had helped it along by mixing a sleep powder into the bland, packaged food he had all but forced her to eat earlier.

They had been at orbit near The Divide for almost a cycle, by his estimate. So far, nothing had happened. Nothing. No vessel activity. No surface human activity. The scanners hadn't picked up anything at all.

They rode concealed in an artificial balian cloud at the exact coordinates in Morgon's log. If not for the uncomfortable pricking at his nape that wouldn't go away, he would have long since moved on to one of the other larger planets.

Maegan mumbled and shifted in her seat. His heart swelled as he looked at her. A strand of hair had worked its way loose from the coil at the back of her head and fallen across her cheek. He gently pushed it back. His finger returned to trace the velvet softness of her skin.

If he could have anything at all, he'd choose time. Time alone with this woman. Away from all the demands of his heritage, his job and others. Time to love, discover, explore, bond, mate. Start a family.

A low chime sounded in the quiet of the dim cabin. On the nav screen, a small blue light began to flash. It was independent of the scanners, which still showed nothing. He watched it for a couple of nans, and was just about to wake Maegan when it blinked out.

He made an entry into the Blue Zephyr's communication relay, set a code and sent the message on its way.

When he pushed the pad away and leaned back in his chair, Maegan was watching him.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You didn't sleep very long." The dose he'd given her had been small.

"I shouldn't have slept at all," she snapped. "Did you do something to my food?"

"A small pinch, that's all," he said. "You needed rest."

She narrowed her eyes and scowled at him. "Let me remind you, Governor. I'm commanding this mission. You take orders from me. That was our agreement.

Don't mess with me again or I'll dump you off on that planet." She stabbed a finger in the general direction of The Divide.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, unrepentant. Blood of Cor. All his nerve endings had jumped to full attention. Amazing how this woman had the power to turn him on. He allowed the feeling to simmer, knowing that nothing would happen.

"What were you doing with the comm?" she asked as she unstrapped herself.

"Checking in. Where are you going?" His body wanted to follow.

Her head snapped up. "You coded...?" She stopped herself and shook her head. "Of course you did."

"Thank you for not thinking I'm a complete idiot," he said dryly. "There are a few things I from my training and Fleet days."

"I'm used to operating alone." She climbed down from the chair. "Pay attention. You're in charge right now."

He stopped himself just in time from tweaking her tight little ass as she brushed by. She was right. Even though nothing was happening, every combat pilot knew that could change in a nanonan. She was far too distracting.

"What will you be doing?" he called. The scanners reported nothing. There were

no independent blue blips showing up on the nav screen.

"I have to pee." Her tone dripped irritation.

He chuckled, stretched and laced his hands behind his head. On the comm pad, a white flash zipped across the blank screen. Message received and understood. His muscles lost some of their tension.

He allowed himself to wonder how the situation on Pallas Seven had resolved. If Sharm had seen fit to call Corenna and Drakal from Pallas Four, something significant had happened.

On the nav screen, the blue light began to blink again. He watched it carefully. There was no change in coordinates. The location was stable. Ten blinks, then nothing.

Maegan slid back into the command chair. "Anything?"

"Morgon's down there." It seemed like a good time to tell her.

"How do you know?"

"The locator beacon, of course."

"It works?"

"You didn't expect it to? You're the acting head of Janas and you're questioning your own technology?"

Her gaze slid away. "Well, it's just that sometimes we're a little premature and things go...ah...wrong. This hadn't even really been alpha tested yet."

"Morgon's the alpha test?"

"He usually is on these personal devices. We've just never had this kind of situation before." Her voice cracked.

"The signal's shown up twice now." He sought to reassure her. "Five blinks the first time, ten the second. His location is stable."

She nodded. "The beacon is programmed for random transmission, both in length and time."

"Curious we've been here a whole cycle and it's just now showing up."

"He may have just activated it. He may not have been able to before now."

"Explain." It would have been nice to have had that information from the beginning. He tamped down impatience.

"The chip is sensitive to pressure. It can be turned on and off simply by pressing down on the skin where it's embedded."

So Morgon had chosen to transmit the signal in hopes of rescue. Alerik debated sending another coded transmission, then reasoned it would be of little value.

Maegan was studying the screen. "If he's there, I don't understand why the scanners aren't picking up anything."

"We didn't pick up the priests when they were on Pallas Four either," he reminded her.

"A shielding technology?"

"Or something that neutralizes our scanners."

Maegan muttered under her breath and began pulling up different screens. After four or five screens, she was visibly frustrated.

He chanced disturbing her concentration. "What are you looking for?"

She didn't even pause. "We install all our prototypes on the Blue Zephyr. Morgon insists. We had something--an interrupter technology--that worked in the lab, but didn't field test well. It might--Oh, Gods!"

An alarm shrieked. In front of them, an enormous black void spread across space, and in it appeared a Taragon vessel.

The fighter pilot in him didn't hesitate. Alerik grabbed for the Blue Zephyr's controls, but forced himself back as Maegan did the same thing. Adrenalin rushed through his body as he watched her disengage from orbit and prepare to spin them away from the threat.

The screen that had been blank with inactivity suddenly flared to life.

"We're surrounded. Stand down, Maegan."

"I can--"

"No," he said, with the certainty of long experience. "There are too many. We may have maneuverability and speed, but they have MZ3 missiles and they're primed."

The Blue Zephyr's defense detection sensors were flaring around every vessel on the nav screen.

"We can't just surrender."

"We must," he said. "For now."

* * * *

"Beautiful, is it not?"

The voice was the one Maegan heard in her nightmares. She saw Alerik turn. She couldn't bring herself to do the same.

"Quite spectacular," her mate agreed politely. "I had no idea The Divide hosted such a magnificent feature."

Magnificent and terrifying. Across a wide canyon, a waterfall of fire plunged into an abyss. Despite the distance, she could feel the heat on her skin through the thin transparent membranes that ed for windows in this seemingly fragile habitat built into a leafless forest canopy. A faint odor of charred vegetation hung in the air and an undulating hiss was constant.

But the sight that mesmerized her when they'd first been escorted into the room faded to insignificance with the arrival of Nargune. The perspiration that had gathered on her skin became icy. Chills racked her body.

A large, warm hand wrapped around her upper arm, and with gentle but

inexorable pressure forced her to turn.

"Alerik Mariltar and his bonded mate." Nargune stood alone, poised at the entrance to the room. As before, dressed as she was in a priest's robes, there was nothing to distinguish her as man or woman.

"Sha-priestess Nargune."

Alerik read her well. It could have been any one of the priests who stood there.

A faint smile crossed the beautiful androgynous features. "I was disappointed, Governor, when you didn't accept my earlier invitation to council. But, no matter. You're here now."

"I apologize if I offended you in any way," Alerik said smoothly. "It was my impression that Morgon Trion's secondment was an acceptable alternative. I trust he is well."

Nargune's face appeared to freeze into a mask and a black ugliness radiated from her. The impression was gone in a nanonan.

"Is that what you call it?" she inquired. "Yes, he's well. You may see him for yourself shortly."

Her attention shifted. Maegan's chills returned full force. It was all she could do

to stand her ground and not seek the protection of Alerik's body.

"Maegan." The word was drawn out like a caress. "What an unexpected pleasure. So delightful to see you again so soon. What a challenge you were."

Beside her, Alerik tensed. No doubt about it. There was a threat in those words, which Nargune hadn't bothered to hide. For a heartbeat, she felt as if something had her by the throat and sucked the breath from her lungs. The worst part was, she couldn't--didn't even want to fight.

The sensation vanished. Nargune glided forward.

"Your accommodations are acceptable? I must ask that you not leave this room unescorted for your own safety. I'm sure you understand."

The priestess touched her hand to the wall. A slid open revealing a stark, brightly lit corridor. She gestured. "Governor, shall we pay a visit to Morgon Trion and have that council now?"

"As you wish."

In disbelief, Maegan felt her mate's warm grasp fall away. She saw Alerik move in Nargune's direction without so much as a word or gesture to reassure her.

Separated, they would certainly fail, nor could she bear to think of what might

happen to him. They were prisoners here, not guests. He surely wasn't deceived by their reception, which despite the guards, had been cordial enough, befitting a Mariltar heir and governor. Panic welled, but was no less debilitating than the sudden fierce pain that stabbed its tentacles through her skull.

"Alerik," she screamed, but her voice was muffled in the sudden thickening air of the widened distance between them.

He gave no sign he had heard.

She tried to follow him, but found her limbs locked in place. He was almost to the entrance of the bright corridor. If he entered, she was certain she would never see him again.

She focused all her being on ignoring the pain. As it began to diminish slightly, she tried again to move, tried to shout, anything to attract his attention.

Despite herself, her gaze was drawn to Nargune. The priestess's face bore a look of icy rage, which quickly turned to triumph.

When Maegan looked for her mate again, he had gained the corridor and was vanishing into its bright light.

Chapter 23

Margaine Confluence The Divide

The Divide had no night or day, just a perpetual twilight lit by the glow of the waterfall of fire.

Alerik didn't return.

Exhausted, Maegan succumbed to sleep and awoke disoriented with no concept of how much time had ed. The room seemed hotter. The pain in her head was gone.

Her stomach growled. The last time she had eaten had been on the Blue Zephyr, when Alerik had all but forced the food on her. She had no idea how long ago that had been.

She began to prowl the room's perimeter, pushing at the s, looking for an exit. This was not Taragon architecture. She wondered about the native inhabitants of The Divide. They had seen only Taragon guards on their way into this place.

A yielded under her hand and slid open without a sound.

A Taragon guard stepped into the opening, a blaster pointed straight at her.

She stood her ground, heart pounding. The blaster was primed. She could see the white flare. "I'm a guest of your sha-priestess, Nargune," she said. "I would like some food."

He spat some words she didn't understand, but the message was clear. The barrel of the blaster hit her in the stomach and pushed her back when she didn't comply fast enough. The snapped closed.

Stomach aching, she continued to work her way around the room. Another opened soundlessly. An empty corridor stretched out before her. She was almost certain it was the same one Nargune and Alerik had taken. It was lit with a bright white light that had no obvious source and was cooler by degrees than the room.

She didn't hesitate. There was no choice. She stepped forward. The closed behind her. The atmosphere in the corridor was eerie and disorienting. All she could see was white. As she moved, her footsteps made no sound. She couldn't even hear her own breathing. The corridor was narrow enough that she could touch both walls simultaneously. It seemed to anchor her a little.

A portal opened to her touch. Another white, empty corridor. Some muffled sounds at a distance. She decided to stay in the first, larger corridor. Another portal. Another empty corridor. The original one appeared to have no end.

The wall yielded under her fingers again. This time the new corridor wasn't empty. A body lay crumpled on the floor, a blaster at its side.

She approached with caution. The body, dressed in the uniform of a Taragon temple guard, didn't' move. The smell of death, thick and biting, hung in the still air.

She nudged him with her foot. Nothing. She stepped over him and saw why. His head had taken a direct hit. She bent and retrieved the heavy double-barreled blaster. It was primed to fire, but the guard hadn't had time to release the blast before he'd taken the fatal shot, which from the condition of his shattered skull, looked like it had come from a laserray.

Hampered by the weight of the weapon, she could only test one side of the corridor at a time. A portal opened, but not onto another corridor. Brutal sound and color flooded her senses. Something flew past her line of vision. She heard a thump, followed by a shrill scream. The thunder of weapons firing. Men and women shouted and cursed in many languages. The odor of singed flesh and charred organic material rolled into the corridor.

She leapt backwards, confused, adrenaline surging.

The portal should have resealed instantly like the others had.

It didn't.

The tip of a magblaster cracked against its rim. The enormous body of a Taragon temple guard appeared. Only his eyes, death-crazed, were visible through the thin platshield that covered his face. He swung the blaster up, pointing it straight at her chest.

The muscles in her arms screamed as she struggled to raise her own weapon. Her timing was off by a nanonan. She wasn't certain she could even activate the unfamiliar weapon. Instinct drove her. Old training kicked in. She threw herself to one side. The blast from her attacker's weapon seared her side under her arm, but took its destructive energy out on the corridor wall.

She was backed up against the wall with nowhere to go. Instinct and training had saved her the first time. All she had left were sheer will power and luck. Even as the temple guard repositioned his blaster for a second shot, her fingers found the firing mechanism. She steadied her weapon. Before she could release the blast, her attacker stumbled, and fell face-forward at her feet, a gaping hole in his back.

"Ma'am." Drakal stuck his head through the cavity and nodded at her. "Stay there, please, until we've finished up out here."

Astonished relief made her knees wobble. She gulped in some deep breaths. Through the portal, which had failed to close because it was partially blocked by the Taragon fighter's body, she saw not just Mariltar warriors. A multi-nation team were engaging the Taragon fighters in a large exterior plaza. And the winning side was clearly apparent.

A temple guard had found cover behind a low wall. She saw him pick a target.

She scrambled through the portal and knelt to aim her blaster. Her weapon slammed back against her shoulder. The guard fell and didn't get up. Adrenaline pumping, she ran to appropriate his position.

The Taragon guards were vastly outnumbered, but resisted demands to surrender. Only after a long, fierce battle did the last one lay his weapon down.

Drakal appeared. "You don't follow orders well, do you?"

She shoved back her hair, which had fallen loose. "Where's Alerik?" Her side hurt, but she ignored it.

A peculiar expression crossed his face. "He wasn't with you?"

"No-- Blazing starpits," she whispered. "I mean he was, but then Nargune..." Pain in her stomach doubled her forward.

Drakal caught her with one arm. "Maegan?"

"I'm all right," she gasped. "I'm all right. Give me a nan." She pulled away from his hold and bent forward, hands on her knees. The cramps slowly subsided.

"Is she hurt?" someone said.

"Don't think so. At least not seriously that I can see," Drakal responded. "She doesn't know where Governor Mariltar is."

"This place is a warren. We need to get into those corridors."

"Nargune took Alerik away." Maegan straightened up. She didn't recognize the three fighters dressed in Coalition uniforms gathered around them. Two were Soron. The one who wore commander's bars, to her utter shock, was Taragon.

He noticed her inadvertent recoil. "Calm, lady. I'm on your side, but I understand how hard that might be to accept. The majority of our population does not subscribe to the teachings of these priests."

She shook her head. "Then how can you let your children be taken to build their armies?"

A flash of genuine pain crossed his face. "Those of us off-world in the service of the Coalition had no true understanding of the extent of the problem. We accepted that the power of the priests had been neutralized. There were rumors of children who disappeared occasionally from the more sparsely populated areas. Runaways from a hard life. Rarely investigated, at first, because the parents never complained."

"Because their children's lives would have been at risk."

"Yes." The commander glanced around. "We need access to the rest of this

complex."

"There are portals that open to pressure from the inside." Maegan couldn't quite shake her mistrust, but for now she had no choice but to cooperate. "I don't know how they operate from the outside. Everything seems connected in there."

"There are two that are jammed open," the female Soron said. "We can start with those."

The commander jerked his head and barked some orders. Troops of Coalition fighters formed and moved off through the portals. More portals began to open up around the plaza as the groups progressed through the corridors.

Drakal had moved a few steps away to speak with the commander. In the center of the plaza, Coalition fighters were preparing the prisoners for transport. Med teams were caring for the wounded. No one paid her any attention.

She picked up her blaster and began to edge toward the nearest opening.

"Maegan!"

For a nanonan, she contemplated running, but realized she wouldn't get far. Drakal sounded out of patience.

"Alerik and Morgon are in there somewhere with Nargune," she said.

"And we have hundreds of Coalition fighters looking for them," he said. "What you saw here was just one unit. A medtech should look at your side."

"I'm fine," she said. The stinging pain had subsided to a dull throb long ago. "I can go with one of the groups. I promise I'll stay with them." She swallowed. "I need to do something."

Drakal grimaced and gave a sharp nod. "Stay here." He strode across the plaza to where the commander now stood with the prisoners. They had a short conversation, then Drakal made his way back. "Let's go."

They entered the corridors at the same place she had come out. Once again, she was hampered by her weapon and could only trigger portal openings on one side. She explained her method to Drakal, who took the opposite side. As they moved through the system, they occasionally saw other groups, which had branched off to explore the connecting corridors. Something compelled Maegan to stick to this main route, the last place she had seen Alerik.

A portal opened on her side. An acrid smell accompanied a billow of smoke. Drakal shoved her aside. She crouched to peer past him. In contrast to the main corridor, this one was dim and narrow. A small fire burned beside the bodies of two temple guards, but even as she watched, it flickered out. Muffled noises came from where the corridor disappeared into darkness.

Drakal stepped back and the portal closed. "Slieking place," he muttered. "I'm guessing that part leads underground. Let's keep going." He gestured with his free hand. "How long has it been since you saw Governor Mariltar?"

"I don't know. I fell asleep or lost consciousness and lost track of time. Nargune took him down this corridor to see Morgon."

Another portal opened ahead of them and a small group of Coalition fighters appeared.

"What's down there?" Drakal demanded.

"Just habitat pods, sir," a Merlon said. "All empty. No sign of the original inhabitants."

"No other exits out of the pods?"

"Not that we found, sir. We tried them all."

"Stay with us. This is the last place the governor's mate saw--Excuse me." He paused to listen to his communicator. Maegan saw the creases in his brow smooth out. His temple mark softened from almost black to a slate gray. "Thank you. Please inform Commander Foster. He'll want to notify his family."

His gaze caught Maegan's and he must have seen a question there.

"Corenna," he explained. "He was wounded in the first assault wave. They

expect a full recovery."

"I'm glad," she said. She had spared a thought for the black-haired man. She'd rarely seen the two of them apart.

Drakal turned back to the group.

Impatient and anxious to move on, she began to edge past him. His arm shot out to block her. A chilling scream erupted from the corridor just ahead of them and chaos ensued.

Pushed to the ground, Maegan could see little beyond the forest of legs. The screaming continued, a sound of desperation and defiance overlaid with the zing of laser fire. Then abruptly it cut off.

Maegan staggered to her feet. Her stomach was cramping horribly again. She knew instinctively it had nothing to do with what had just happened. She had to get to Alerik. Time was running out.

Cradling her weapon, she skirted the group. Drakal had his back to her. They were all preoccupied with the Taragon guard, who lay crumpled on his back on the ground. As she ed by, the guard looked straight at her. A terrible sound rattled from his throat. The menace in it made her stumble. She jerked her gaze away. Clutching the blaster more tightly, she hurried on.

The corridor stretched out ahead of her with no apparent end. She began to run.

She didn't know what it was that drove her. All she knew was that it was far stronger and compelling than the voice of caution that shrieked at her.

She heard a shout and forced herself to move faster. The blaster was heavy. She considered abandoning it. Her boots slapped against the composite floor. Her heart pounded in her chest.

She slammed into nothing, bounced and fell. Her head smashed against the wall.

* * * *

"It's some kind of force field."

"Not like anything I've ever seen."

"Zap it with your laserray!"

"And have the beam bounce back on one of us the way she bounced? Use your deiming brain!"

"You have a better idea or do we just head back and pretend it's not there?"

"Make him tell us."

"Anyone know Taragon? He won't respond to Universal."

" Commander Tak," a voice snapped close to Maegan's ear.

She opened her eyes. Drakal squatted in front of her.

"Head all right?"

She nodded. The new throbbing in her head was minor compared to the urgency that gripped her entire body. "He's through there," she said. "I know he is. We have to get to him. We have to--"

"Maegan!" Drakal cut her off and thrust his face closer.

She bit down on her lip as she realized her voice had been rising with her panic. The two fighters who had stayed with them while the others had gone back to the prisoner were staring at her.

"We will find him," Drakal said more gently. "If we have to dismantle this entire system, we will find him."

"And he'll be dead," she whispered. "Nargune will kill him, and Morgon. She'll never allow herself to be taken prisoner. She--"

A long moaning wail filled the corridor. It rose in pitch and volume until it was a scream that made Maegan shudder with dread. Then it abruptly cut off.

Drakal was on his feet. "Blood of Cor, what slieking happened?"

One of the Sorons was coming back. "Dead, sir." The man's face was damp with sweat and drawn with shock. "He just...expired. Commander Tak only asked one question."

Another fighter strode up. "Commander Tak's on his way."

"His wounds weren't serious," Drakal snapped. "How could he just die?"

"Nargune." Maegan didn't realize she'd spoken out loud until five pairs of eyes focused on her.

Drakal frowned and opened his mouth.

"He's a senior temple guard," she said, cutting him off. "Did you see his faceshield markings?" Tired of looking up, she maneuvered to her knees. The pain in her skull wasn't so bad.

Drakal grabbed her elbow and helped her to her feet. She looked at the faces

around her. Two more of the fighters had ed them, leaving one with the body. Facial expressions ranged from curious to outright skepticism.

"He's the last line of defense for the temple and his sha-priestess. He failed in his job. He had to die."

"But how?"

She shook her head, then wished she hadn't as jagged pain tore through it. "I don't know how. Nargune has powers we don't understand. That's why she's so dangerous."

"Not any more. Her power base has been destroyed," one of the fighters said. "There's nothing left of what she's built on The Divide."

Gods. The news sent a shaft of sheer terror through her body. The Coalition, it seemed, had come through and authorized a major offensive against one of the nine nations, not just a minor rescue mission. It was what she and Morgon had worked so long and hard for. The child armies would be dismantled, the children returned to their families or adoptive homes.

But at what cost?

"Don't underestimate her." Maegan turned and pleaded directly to Drakal. "Please. She still has Alerik and Morgon, and we don't know where they are."

Or even if they're still alive.

Insidious and damaging, the doubts crept from the shadows of her mind and wove through her thoughts. With the destruction of her world, what reason would Nargune have to allow Alerik and Morgon to live?

The corridor stretched before her, blocked by the barrier she couldn't see. Alerik was imprisoned behind it. She knew it with every fiber of her being. The urgency within her escalated. There had to be a way through.

She was vaguely aware of Drakal barking orders, of two pairs of fighters moving off. She edged closer to where she thought the barrier was as, from down the corridor, came the sound of more voices and thudding boots. Odd how the noise made by many seemed to be magnified in this white world. When she'd been on her own, everything had seemed so muffled.

And then she blocked it all out, all the voices, all the activity. The barrier had to be close. Her heart pounded to a matching pulse of pain in her head. Perspiration dampened her skin.

From a far distance, someone called her name.

Alerik!

For a nanonan, hope flared bright and joyous. Without conscious thought, she increased her pace.

She heard her name again. This time, she realized it came from behind her. The voice was fainter, yet demanded her attention.

She turned. Shock splintered through her.

Twenty paces down the corridor, a multi-nation group of fighters pushed against an invisible barrier. Commander Tak had arrived and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Drakal. Both men gestured her back, their shouts muffled in the vast whiteness.

She took a step toward them, a tiny part of her curious how she had ed through a barrier that held them all back. All her training demanded she not proceed alone. But the urgency was hammering at her.

Time was not in their favor.

She made the only choice she could.

Chapter 24

Margaine Confluence The Divide

The white corridor took an abrupt turn and ended just as abruptly in a cavernous room that appeared to be hewn out of earth and rock. Heat radiated from rough walls bearing jagged symbols in blood red and bright orange. Kneeling pads littered a metal-smooth floor in no discernable pattern. A ring of squat columns stood in the room's center.

This had to be Nargune's temple, and it was empty.

So sure she had been about to find Alerik, Maegan stood at the room's threshold and tried to control a rising panic. The urgency that had driven her had vanished. There was nothing, no sense that her mate still lived; no instinct that drove her.

Nothing but this terrible panic.

She forced herself to move forward into the stifling heat. Beneath her feet, the floor undulated and she stumbled. Not metal or any other solid material, it felt like a thick gel with a hard, flexible skin. Moving more cautiously, she circled the temple, searching for exits.

The painted earth and rock gave up no clues.

Back at the entrance, she faced the circle of columns. As she focused on it, the panic she had so far held at bay became muscle-weakening terror. Here lay a trigger to her distress, yet she could see nothing other than the peculiar squat columns. She knew they were inanimate objects. They couldn't hurt her. Why did they appear so menacing?

She had to examine the circle more closely. Against her instincts, which screamed at her to run, she approached the columns, the tallest of which was no higher than her shoulder. Their diameters appeared to be uniform.

Every cell in her body resisted, so it was with a sense of disbelief that she saw her own hand touch the smooth surface of the short column closest to her. An image from a starpit nightmare sprang into her mind. A giant of a man lay stretched across the column's flat surface. He was nude. His arms and legs, spread wide, didn't quite reach the edges. His body, streaked with crimson, strained against invisible bonds. His mouth gaped open in a scream she couldn't hear. She didn't know him, yet he was familiar.

She snatched her hand back. The image vanished.

The mottled red material of the columns was like nothing she had ever felt before. The surface was soft, smooth, yielding to her fingers, yet beneath the softness was a hardness that vibrated, and shook her to her bones. Unlike the walls of the cavern, no heat radiated from them, yet her fingers stung as if they had been burned.

The interior of the circle, within the ring of columns, was as large as a small room. The floor was the same gel substance as the rest of the temple.

She took a deep breath. Fighting the mind-numbing terror, she clenched her fists, and stepped between two columns. The floor shuddered beneath her feet. Silence hammered at her ears. Sweat oozed from her pores, trickled down her sides and stung her wound.

Like the earth and the rock, the columns yielded no obvious exits from the chamber.

She forced herself to explore the ring's interior and visually examine each mottled red column. She couldn't bring herself to touch them again. More and more, they looked like they were bleeding. The image of the man stretched in agony across one wavered into shape in her head again and wouldn't leave. Her imagination? Perhaps. That this temple might host human sacrifices wasn't such a leap. Nargune was fully capable of such unthinkable, barbarous acts.

As she approached the short column again that had inspired the horrendous image, her breath suddenly escaped her lungs in a long whoosh. She felt as if someone had punched her. She stumbled and would have dropped to her knees, except that every cell in her body clamored at her to stay upright. She had to get out of the ring. A palpable sense of threat, dense and smothering, pressed down on her and threatened to crush her will. She managed one step, and another.

Once outside the columns, the pressure immediately lifted. The image in her head of the tortured man vanished again. Instead, she felt a growing sense of urgency. Time was running out. For Alerik and for Morgon.

For them all.

She didn't want to, but she knew she had to go back into the circle. With unshakeable certainty, she knew the columns held the key to finding the men. As she wove in and out, column after column, fear shadowed her every step; a nightmare lurked around every turn. She kept going. Even when she saw the red mottling seep and bleed and spread until the columns became a solid, glowing crimson, she kept going.

A sudden soft beep split the silence. A deep, almost subsonic grating sounded.

Shocked as she was by the noise, she at first didn't notice the movement. Her foot slipped on the gel floor. As she regained her balance, she saw the space between two columns narrow. She whirled.

All the columns were moving. They slid across the gel floor to the escalating sound of grating. Beneath her feet, the floor undulated in waves that seemed to be increasing in size. As she struggled to maintain her footing, she realized she was about to be trapped in the circle. She had to get out. She tried to run and couldn't. Her brain commanded her feet, but they seemed stuck in place. All around her, the weeping red columns moved, slid closer, until, with a tormented shriek, they slammed together in a small, tight circle. A circle which had no exit. In the sudden, intense silence, she forced herself to be still, to breathe deeply, to listen.

A searing white light speared down from the temple's ceiling to illuminate the flat top of each pillar. The columns, seeming like a single structure now, began to move. She didn't know which way it was moving, only that it was in motion. Light blinded her. Movement dizzied her. She dropped to her knees, weak and trembling.

The beams of light vanished. The columns moved silently apart.

Crouched on the floor, she saw she was no longer in the earth and rock temple. This room was smaller, less cavernous, and had pristine white walls, similar to the corridors above the temple. As her eyes adjusted to the softer light, she noticed large alcoves built into the walls at regular intervals. With slow care, she rose to her feet on a solid floor that didn't undulate. Icy air eddied around her.

A flash of color caught her peripheral vision.

"Maegan. How delightful. I'm surprised it took you this long to find him."

* * * *

Alerik dreamed.

He wanted to wake up, was desperate to wake up. He had to break free, escape from this strange fantasy world in which he found himself.

He ran through a forest, a place he didn't recognize. Unlike any forest he had ever seen, the sapling-thin trees bore enormous canopies that dripped trailing vines. The vines writhed in the heated air and hissed as he ed. His feet stirred up an odor of rotting vegetation.

Someone trailed him in the forest. Friend or foe, he couldn't determine. An aching dread warred with a deep, affectionate warmth inside of him. Every time he stopped to catch his breath, he saw only shadows. A flicker of movement.

He was searching for someone, but he didn't know who. He just knew it was imperative he find them.

So he ran. On and on. And as he ran, the vines reached out for him. Their hisses became whispers of fear, then screams of despair, as a black cloud oozed from the soil, spread its creeping tendrils across roots and debris. It circled the trees and obscured their shapes. Muffled the vines until a thick silence blanketed the forest.

Suddenly the blackness was all around him and inside him and smothering his heart.

* * * *

"Where is he?" Maegan faced Nargune. "Where are they?"

Nargune was cloaked to match the blood red and orange of the temple walls. Only the lower half of her face was visible. She stood without moving between two slender pillars that reached only partway to the ceiling.

Maegan was trapped in this white chamber with its ghastly columns. Trapped with a woman who craved power above all else, and wouldn't hesitate to destroy

to get it. She knew she should feel fear, loathing, hatred...

At the moment, all she wanted was assurance that Alerik was unharmed.

"Here. They're both here." Nargune made a sweeping gesture that encomed the entire room. and folded her arms again. "We've been waiting for you."

Maegan turned her head just enough to examine what she could of the room without losing sight of Nargune. Nothing. No Mariltar males. Nobody but her and the sha-priestess. Nor did she sense another presence in the room. Surely she would know if Alerik were close. Instinct had led her here. Wouldn't instinct identify the presence of her mate? She wanted to turn and look behind, but didn't. "You left me imprisoned in the guest room."

"No. You only thought that for a while. You escaped, didn't you? I knew the bond between you and your mate was strong, and that you'd come looking for him, but I needed some time with him first."

"What have you done to him?"

Nargune stirred. Her long, lean body swayed. Her bright robes swirled around her feet. For a nanonan only, Maegan thought she saw wisps of black smoke spewing from the fabric at the robe's hem. When she looked again, there was nothing there. "He's well enough."

An evasive answer, if she'd ever heard one. Icy tendrils of fear crept through her

veins. She forced a deep breath and stiffened her knees and her resolve. "What do you want from me?"

Nargune's laughter echoed around the chamber. In it, Maegan detected something forced and unnatural. As if the sha-priestess was not completely in control.

"Maegan, you are my biggest challenge, just as Alerik Mariltar's mother was my father's. But I've learned from his failure. I know now what I must do. You're strong, but I'm stronger."

She reached to touch the pillar to her right. The chamber plunged into complete and utter darkness. The eddies of air became a full-blown icy wind that caused Maegan widen her stance to brace herself.

"You're wrong, Nargune."

Alerik's mother and Nargune's father? Alerik had never said a word. Did he even know? Something about that had to be a critical key in all this. She just didn't know what and she couldn't think about it now.

She began to back slowly away as she waited for her eyes to adjust. She wanted distance between herself and the sha-priestess. The darkness wasn't as complete as she had first thought. Shadows writhed above her head. "I'm the stronger one. You didn't get what you wanted when you had me before, did you? Because you couldn't. And you'll fail again."

The laughter came again, higher and more piercing. "You've convinced yourself of that, have you? I'm too close to having everything I want. You are one very insignificant barrier. You cannot stop me."

Maegan bumped up against the wall at the same time she came to the astounding realization that Nargune might have no knowledge of anything that had occurred outside of the temple. Beneath her fingers, the wall's surface was smooth and cool, and bore a hint of dampness.

How could she use the knowledge of the destruction outside the temple to her advantage? She didn't know if she could get out of this chamber the same way she'd entered. Nor could she leave without Alerik and Morgon. Nargune had said they were here, but what reason did she have to trust anything Nargune said? What should she do now?

"Maegan." Nargune sounded close.

Too close. Maegan still couldn't see anything.

"You are safe here." The whisper came from her right.

"You cannot escape." A harsher whisper, this time from directly above her, as if her tormentor hung from the ceiling.

Her head was beginning to ache and a strange dizziness was sapping her alertness.

"Do you see the pretty light?" The voice was right at her shoulder this time. She should block it out. It tugged at her, pulling her toward a place she didn't want to go. But resisting its pull was hard. So very hard.

A small green flame bloomed in mid-air. An arm's length away. Or was it on the other side of the chamber? She felt no heat from it, and saw no shadows cast by it. That single flare of pretty, mesmerizing light beckoned her. There was a reason she shouldn't trust it, just like she shouldn't trust the voice. She couldn't why.

The light danced, flared more brightly, and prodded a memory. The memory struggled to surface. She sensed it was one of her most cherished, and just that knowledge obliterated the siren call of the light. A full memory bloomed of The Lichs, the day when Alerik had taken her there. Though her emotions had been raw and ugly, the peaceful, primitive beauty of the place had imprinted on her mind forever. It calmed her now like nothing else could, and it refocused her.

The dizziness faded.

The voice was silent. She had no sense of Nargune's location, but now the green flame pushed back the darkness enough she knew that the sha-priestess wasn't nearby. On the other side of the chamber, beyond the green flame, she thought she saw a flicker of movement.

She began to move, with no particular plan in mind. She had to find Alex and Morgon. The only logical place for them to be was in the large alcoves. The ones she had seen before Nargune had plunged the chamber into darkness had been empty.

Her fingers slid across the walls, gathering a peculiar sticky dampness.

An odd pulse disturbed the air. There was no sound, just a push of angry air, a concussion as if from a massive explosion. And then nothing again.

Her searching hand encountered open space. An alcove. Pulse racing, she felt around. The alcove was empty. So was the next. She squashed her disappointment and rising panic and moved on. The green light still danced, sometimes close, sometimes at a distance, but she no longer felt its pull. Nargune remained silent.

Her fingers slipped and sank into a soft membrane. She pulled them back, until they again rested on solid wall surface. With more caution, she moved her hand forward again and encountered the same soft membrane. When she pushed, it dissolved under pressure. Her hand thrust through empty air. For a nanonan, she thought she had found another empty alcove, then her hand connected with smooth fabric and underneath it warmth.

Blazing starpits! Adrenaline and excitement raced through her. She used both hands to explore. The shape under the fabric was a body, definitely alive, standing upright without restraints as far as she could tell, but unresponsive to her touch. She felt a chin, bristly with new beard growth, traced the outline of the lips, then the nose. Morgon.

Wary of making any sound, she poked him hard.

No response.

She reached up and grabbed his head with both hands and gently shook it from side to side.

No reaction.

She could hear him breathing, could feel the soft expulsions of air on her own face.

She again felt an angry air-pulse in the chamber. It reminded her that Nargune was still at large, still a deadly danger. She had to find Alerik.

Leaving Morgon for now, and using the wall to guide her again, she continued around the chamber's perimeter. The next alcove had no membrane seal and was empty. So was the next one, and the next. Panic was curdling her stomach again when she encountered the edge of the fourth alcove. She felt inside and almost screamed with frustration. Also empty. Urgency clawed at her. She had no idea where Nargune was or why she had gone silent.

Her own breathing sounded loud and harsh to her ears. She forced herself to take some deep breaths and moved on to the fifth alcove. The membrane that covered the opening wrapped around her searching hands, but she knew with a soaring elation she had found her mate.

He was as unresponsive as Morgon. But he was alive! For a few nanonans, she

allowed herself to rest against his chest, delighting in the beat of his heart, in the warmth of his skin, in the caress of his breath against her upturned cheek, all proof of life.

What now? She had to find a way to rouse him. And Morgon. Shadows still danced on the chamber's ceiling. The green flame still burned, but the lure of it was gone.

Beyond the bright flame, the darkness hid anything and everything. She saw no one, had no sense of movement, of anyone else, except for her acute awareness of Morgon and Alerik. If Nargune was still present, she was invisible.

A third pulse, stronger than before, rocked the air of the chamber, as if a massive, soundless blast had occurred. The entire room seemed to tilt before settling back to normal. A shriek of rage raised the hair on Maegan's nape.

"What have you done?" Nargune's voice cut through the darkness. "What have you brought here? This is sanctuary. Nothing disturbs it. Nothing disturbs me!"

If Nargune didn't know what was causing the odd pulses, then it had to be a rescue team. She sincerely hoped they were close. Nargune could decide to destroy them all in a nanonan. Maegan didn't doubt her power to do so.

"Your sanctuary doesn't exist anymore," Maegan called, her voice sounding faint and insubstantial. Perhaps it was unwise to reveal anything to Nargune, but the distraction might buy her some time. "The world you've created doesn't exist. It's all gone."

This time the sound that echoed around the chamber was the harsh false laughter from Maegan's nightmares. "You imbeciles have no concept of my abilities or of what I've created here. The Coalition Council is weak, so easy to influence, and even easier to infiltrate."

Nargune's vindictive voice sounded at a distance again, but Maegan wasn't about to trust anything in this place. The sha-priestess could be right beside her. She forced that thought to the back of her mind while she continued to prod at Alerik, hoping for any reaction.

"I have four of their own and soon will have more."

This time, Maegan jumped and had to clamp down on a scream. The voice had been close, too close. She froze and listened intently, but heard nothing but Alerik's soft breathing. Blazing starpits! What was Nargune talking about? Four? There were others like Alerik and Morgon?

The Council was infiltrated?

She drew several deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. If she listened to the rantings of a power-hungry crazy woman, she'd be sucked into her fantasies. She had to focus on how to get out of this place with no obvious exits with two unresponsive men.

"If you can hear me at all," she muttered softly to Alerik, "just cooperate. We need to move."

She lifted his arm over her shoulder and slid her own around his waist. With a pull and a tug, she took a step forward. To her utter amazement, he moved easily with her. Another step, then another. She moved him along the wall, past the empty alcoves to where Morgon stood.

The membrane had reattached itself, but yielded easily under her fingers. With her free arm, she urged Morgon from the alcove, then sought the green flame. It was possible they could leave this place the same way she had arrived, through the circle of columns. She would have to leave Alerik and Morgon within the circle, while she tried to set off the trigger mechanism. Her biggest fear was the circle held the odd green flame. She had no idea what, if any, danger it posed to them.

She maneuvered her docile charges between two columns. The space between seemed tighter than she ed. The larger bodies of the two men barely fit.

A sudden eerie glow filled the chamber as the flame flared higher. Beneath its light, in the center of the ring of columns, the sha-priestess stood clearly revealed. Arms spread wide, she faced them. All around them the columns moved, crowded together. There was no escape.

Nargune threw back her head and seemed to grow. Maegan's chest ached as air was sucked from her lungs. A pulse, stronger than any before, rocked the air. No sound accompanied it, but an excruciating pain stabbed through her head. She staggered, lost her grip on Morgon.

And the floor dissolved beneath their feet.

Chapter 25

Margaine Confluence:/First Rising Pallas Five

"No change?"

Maegan looked up. Deep in thought, she hadn't heard Sharm Foster enter the healing chamber.

She shook her head. "The medtechs are estimating another two cycles or so."

"Then there's no need for you to be here. You look exhausted," he said. "You should go back to the habitat and rest."

"I know. I will." She turned her gaze back to the two healing pods. "I talk to him...to them," she said. "I like to think they can hear me. Any news?"

Sharm came to stand beside her. He was dressed in the formal uniform of a Mariltar commander of the Seventh Fleet. "No. We've suspended the search. There are no life signs. She was standing in the center of that chamber when they opened it up, Maegan. She was likely vaporized."

"I don't believe that." Maegan felt as if an enormous weight was holding her down. She really did need to get more sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she found herself reliving the nightmare.

The rescuers had breached Nargune's sanctuary by tearing through the floor with a laser blaster. They had taken a risk. While they'd known Maegan and Morgon's location from their tracker beacons, they'd had to assume that Alerik was with them. When the floor gave way, the columns had provided some for the three. In the chaos of sound and falling debris, Maegan had seen Nargune simply disappear from the center of the chamber, along with her green flame.

The disturbing part was no trace of her body had been found. Now she haunted Maegan's nightmares, very much alive. In every one, she had Alerik tethered to her with an unbreakable bond of chainflesh forged into his brain.

With every dream, Alerik faded a little more. The last time she had slept--and dreamed--he'd been just a pale shadow. When Maegan called for him, he hadn't acknowledged her, hadn't reacted at all.

"I don't think you believe that either."

Sharm sighed. "I have to accept the evidence. She couldn't have left that place alive. Come, Maegan. Let me take you back to your habitat. I'm rather fond of my testicles, and I fear Alerik will separate me from them if he finds you nothing but a wraith when he wakes up."

"He will wake up, won't he?" she whispered. She desperately needed the reassurance again. The medtechs were certain that he would. This coma-like state that both men were in had been medically induced to allow their brains some healing time. But the images from her dreams still terrified her and left her with a deep uncertainty.

"He will." Sharm's voice was firm. He put a hand under her elbow and urged her to her feet. "He's strong and has much to live for, including a project he referred to once as 'creating miniature Aleriks.'"

"What?" Outraged, Maegan yanked her elbow out of Sharm's grasp. "Miniature Aleriks? He told me he was on blockers."

"What a surprise. Thought he might have told you about that." Sharm's bland expression indicated he thought anything but. "Are you pregnant?"

"No! I don't know! It's certainly none of your concern." Maegan swung around and marched over to the pod where her mate lay. "You!" She jabbed at the plexicover. "Wake up! If I'm pregnant, I'll kill you." She whirled and pushed Sharm aside. "Where's the medtech? I want a test."

"Later," he grabbed her elbow again. "If he told you he's on blockers, then he's on blockers. Let's go. You need to get some rest. Both his parents and yours are on their way here."

"What?" This one came out several decibels higher.

Sharm winced and clapped a hand over his ear. "Balls of Sortor! You're certainly not as much slieking fun to torment as he is. I just received the comm. Came straight over to tell you."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I thought there was a small chance you might want to know."

He yanked her out of the healing chamber and marched her through the med center, past techs and monitors.

"No, you imbecile." Out of patience, Maegan slapped at his hand. "Why are our parents coming?"

"You might want to keep the insults and blows down. Just on the off chance you're not aware of it, I am the acting governor of The Grogon Belt. The namecalling and assaults won't inspire much confidence."

They ed a tech who did look slightly shocked.

"Oh, sorry." She lowered her voice. "So why are they coming, dimwit?"

"Well, they said it was to check on Alerik and Morgon for themselves. And you, of course," he added as an apparent after thought. "Personally, I think it's to check up on the miniature Alerik project. I've noticed when people get to be a

certain age and their offspring are mated, there's a certain expectation about the miniature issue."

"When I was at the academy, I actually thought you were nice," Maegan muttered. "When do they get here?"

"Three cycles. Alerik and Morgon should be wide awake by then. You thought I was nice?" They'd reached the shuttle tube, and Sharm manhandled her into an empty car.

She pulled away and scowled at him. "Don't get too excited. I've changed my mind."

"Excited? I'm insulted. Nice? I wasn't trying to be nice."

He sounded deeply offended and Maegan felt the weight that held her down lighten a little. A bubble of amusement worked its way up her throat and burst from her mouth. Her companion did not need the extra encouragement, but she couldn't stop it.

Sharm rolled his eyes. "And she thinks that's amusing. Sagar's Crystals, you and Alerik deserve one another."

Maegan didn't know why, but this comment set off a cascade of giggles. To her horror, she couldn't stop, even when another couple entered the tube. They were polite and pretended not to notice as Sharm made small talk with them, but

Maegan caught the woman's amused glance as he hauled her off at the next stop. He was muttering something under his breath about Corenna and Drakal.

And that killed the giggles. Suspicious, she stopped in her tracks at the entrance to the governor's habitat. "What about Corenna and Drakal?"

Sharm took her hand and held it against the scanner to release the door lock. "Corenna's been cleared for duty and I've assigned them both to you again, at least until Alerik is released from the med clinic."

"What do you mean, 'assigned'? Why do I need nursemaids again, especially here on Pallas Five? Nargune's operation is defunct. There are no more child transports. I have no reason to leave."

"Maegan, hear me out." Suddenly, Sharm was all seriousness. "They will be here in nans. They will shadow you wherever you go, and will stay in the habitat with you. Wait!" He held up a hand as she tried to interrupt.

"I'm leaving for Pallas Seven and taking a large contingent of Mariltar security with me. Others will be posted at the med center to guard Alerik and Morgon. While you and Alerik were at The Divide, we intercepted a human trafficking vessel. We believe now the counselor of Pallas Seven is involved in these death fights up to his ears. Things are about to get bad, and until we have everything under control, all other Pallas leadership is being assigned extra security as a precaution."

"Nursemaids reporting for duty, sir."

Drakal dropped a gear bag by the entrance and strolled toward them. He cocked an eyebrow at Maegan.

"Well, you are," she said crossly. To Sharm, she said, "Why do I need two? I'm sure they'd far rather be on a real mission with you. Take one of them with you."

"The Mariltar security team all took a vote." Corenna followed closely behind Drakal. She couldn't see any evidence of a battle wound on him.

"It was unanimous. You are the real mission. There's far more dang--uh, challenge keeping up with you and keeping you out of trouble than in a takedown mission." He draped an arm over Drakal's shoulder and grinned at her.

United against her and amused at her expense, the three men stood side-by-side, wearing expectant expressions.

Maegan threw up her hands. She was tired to the bone. Suddenly, sleep sounded much more attractive with two bodyguards in close proximity, even as annoying as the idea was.

"Successful mission," she said politely to Sharm as she ed him. "Have lots of fun nursemaiding, boys," she called to the other two over her shoulder. "Just so you know and are on appropriate full alert, I'm going to be unconscious for hours and hours."

"That's the most intelligent decision she's made in cycles."

Maegan paused on the threshold of the bedchamber she shared with Alerik. "I heard that," she yelled. "Just , Foster. You were the nice instructor at the academy. I wasn't the only one who thought that!"

As the doors shut, she heard a hoot of derision, and Drakal say, "Nice? She thought you were nice? Does Alerik know? Can't wait to tell..."

* * * *

"You don't think the schedule's too aggressive?"

Makiee shook his head and fiddled with something Maegan couldn't see on the vid screen. He'd been distracted the entire time they'd been conducting a routine review of the ComXFive technology release schedule.

"No, we'll be ready. It's solid. It's a beautiful piece of technology. Bortock really applied his genius on this one."

"What's wrong then?"

"Wrong?" His head snapped up, but his gaze almost instantly shifted away. "Ah, nothing."

"Makiee?"

His skin darkened at her inquiring tone. "Was, ah, wondering if I could, ah, take some rec days following the release."

"Well, of course. You deserve it more than anyone. You've kept everyone on track. You--" A beep from her console warned of an incoming message.

At the same time Makiee interrupted her. "Nimon is asking for the same rec time."

"Oh!" She had to take the incoming message. Its source was the med clinic. "I don't see any reason why you can't both be gone--" The implications dawned on her. Makiee and Nimon had squabbled like children from the time they'd ed Janas Corporation within days of each other. While the squabbles had continued, there'd been a subtle shift in the nature of their disagreements lately.

The console beeped again.

"It's all right, Makiee. You can both take the time you need." There would be opportunity to tease later. "Are we finished? I have to take another call."

Makiee lost no time in g off, the relief at having that conversation out of the way visible on his young face. Maegan grinned as she switched to the incoming communication.

The message was the one for which she'd been waiting. Alerik and Morgon were being roused from their comas.

Chapter 26

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising Pallas Five

Alerik opened his dry, gritty eyes to the sight of a completely unfamiliar room. He badly needed to piss. He rolled his head. Healing pod. A low hum coincided with immediate relief as some machine took care of his problem.

"Welcome back." An unfamiliar medtech leaned over him and smiled. She began to busily check various wires and tubes he hadn't noticed until then. "How do you feel?"

"All right. Where--" He cleared his throat. It was tight, his voice hoarse. "Where am I?"

"Clinic on Pallas Five." She drew a thin med blanket over him. "You have a visitor who is most anxious to see you."

The woman disappeared. Why by Cor's blood would he be on Pallas Five? He had a vague awareness it was part of the Grogon Asteroid Belt on the edge of the Crestar System, but as far as he knew the place had little significance. What had happened to put him in its vicinity, and more importantly in its med clinic?

Cautiously, he moved his arms and legs. He seemed to have all his parts, and everything seemed to be working. He tried to sit up, but the contraption tightened around his body and held him in place. He forced himself to relax. Sharm Foster would fill him in when he arrived.

"I'm told they'll release you from the pod to a normal sleep platform soon. I know it's hard, but you have to be patient."

The voice was soft and warm and female. Definitely not Sharm. The face that appeared above him nudged something in his memory, but it was fleeting and gone in a nanonan. Blonde hair bound tightly back from her face. Spectacular green eyes. Not strictly beautiful, but certainly striking. Her smile faded a little and a tiny crease appeared between her eyes. There was only one person he knew who had eyes that particular shade and he'd lost track of her long ago.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," he said impatiently. "Where's Commander Foster?" Sharm had to be somewhere close by. He was the head of Alerik's core team and bound by oath to serve and protect him.

"He hasn't returned from Pallas Seven yet. Oh--you don't know about that."

"I don't know about a lot of things apparently," Alerik said grimly. The mystery of where he was, why he was here, who this woman was, all made him feel as if he'd entered a different dimension.

"What do you want to know?" The smile was gone. Confusion clouded her green eyes.

"Why am I here, for one thing? Where's my core team? And who are you?"

* * * *

"I still don't understand, dear, why you didn't tell him you're his mate." Maegan's mother took a sip of her favorite drink, a barilian nectar, and reclined in her chair in the great room of Morgan's habitat. "He's going to know sooner rather than later. Better it come from you, don't you think?"

Maegan sighed. She couldn't explain something she didn't understand herself, and about which she was becoming increasingly nervous. Outside the plexiwall, the wilding winds were tearing through the forest canopy, which meant her father would be stuck on Pallas Five, where he had gone to visit Morgon, for possibly a full cycle.

"I don't know, mother. They both have these huge voids in their memories. Morgon's, I'm told, are scattered but he does have some short-term recollection. Alerik doesn't seem to anything about his assignment here, including our marriage partnership. He doesn't he's the governor. He doesn't me at all. The first person he asked for was Commander Foster. I just couldn't add to his confusion by telling him . The medtechs have every expectation some, if not all, of his missing memory will return."

She still shuddered at her memory of Alerik's cold sapphire eyes. Their lack of interest clearly showed he had no understanding of who she was or why she was

there, and that he wanted the people he knew and trusted to attend him. She had left the room and had sent Corenna and Drakal in with a brief explanation and a reluctantly extracted promise not to disclose what she was to him.

Maegan's mother shook her glorious head of hair. "Someone's going to tell him, and then he's going to wonder why you didn't."

"This wasn't a marriage partnership of mutual agreement, mother. He consulted the Match Key. I was hardly even conscious during our ing ceremony."

"But it is a Match Key partnership," her mother said gently. "The Match Key has never been wrong. Alerik Mariltar would respect that under any circumstance."

"There's always a first time," Maegan responded bitterly. She hated the doubts that eroded her confidence and questioned her memories of Alerik's feelings for her. Except when had he ever said he loved her, and why was that suddenly so important? "Since when did you advocate for an outdated Mariltar tradition?"

"This one I've grown to respect." Melissa Shale set down her goblet and stood. She went to her daughter and slid an arm around her waist. Together they stared out at the gathering darkness and tossing canopy.

"Your father won't be back until this has died down, will he? Do you not want this marriage?"

Maegan squeezed her eyes closed. How often had she used those words in the

form of a statement with herself? The answer had once been so clear. "It's not a simple answer. At the beginning, I couldn't fathom why he would choose me, why he would accept the Match Key choice. We were so different in our beliefs and goals. But then..."

"You fell in love?"

Is that what this ugly ever-present pain was that stole her sleep and brought tears at inconvenient moments?

"I don't know," she whispered. "It's so complicated. I don't know what I want anymore."

Just cycles ago, she would have answered that question differently. But back then, Alerik had held her in his arms and made her feel like they belonged together for always. Back then, the Mariltar heir had stepped away from the customs and training of a lifetime, and had chosen to disregard protocol, expectations and diplomacy to follow her in of her rebel--some would say treasonous--actions. She hadn't realized at the time how very much he had sacrificed.

The man with the cold sapphire eyes, who lay in the med clinic, would never have done that.

"Far be it from me to add to your dilemma," her mother said softly, "but you should know that Alerik is being recalled. It's partly why his parents were delayed and won't arrive for another few cycles. They had to stop at the council seat at Magnilium. With this Taragon mess, the Coalition Council wants Alerik

to sit on a special committee. His father will deliver the news when he arrives."

A particularly hard gust of wilding wind hit the plexiwall and made it bow.

"Then he goes alone. I will not leave Grogon or Janas." That decision, at least, was easy, except for the horrible ache in her chest. She was almost certain it was one she would have made anyway. She and Alerik would have argued about it, but would eventually have worked out a long distance arrangement. He would have respected her desire to continue her work.

Except now Morgon was back to take the helm of the corporation again. Mistress Gloriana was firmly entrenched as Pallas Four counselor. The network was no longer operational. What was there for her to do?

Even if the fragile relationship she and Alerik had begun to develop survived intact, she knew she couldn't tolerate the life of a political wife.

Beside her, Melissa sighed. "I'm very afraid, dear child, you will not have a choice. Again, I urge you to go back to Pallas Five and tell Alerik yourself. Before his parents arrive." She reached for Maegan's hand and stroked the tip of her finger over the bright blue bands. "Mariltar men are so extraordinarily stubborn and proud. They--"

"Perhaps I should come back later?" a deep voice laced with amusement said.

"Jason!"

"Father!"

Her father, Corenna by his side, strolled across the room. Corenna had a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear. Distracted though she was, Maegan had a fair idea why. They hadn't come from the habitat's main entrance. Morgon's secret tunnel system was becoming less secret.

"We thought the winds would prevent a safe landing." Melissa hurried to meet her mate.

"We arrived just ahead of them." Jason slid an arm around his wife's waist and dropped a kiss on her lips. He lifted his head and smiled at Maegan. "We've been exploring Morgon's underground habitat. Extraordinary. The weapons vault is incredible. Morgon always did have a collector's eye. Corenna was like a youngster on those tube pads."

Corenna slapped his hands together. "Wish they moved just a little faster. Still, makes a good ride. Where's Drakal? He'll want to see those weapons."

Melissa gestured to the wide hallway from which they'd just emerged. "He went to take a nap in one of the bedchambers."

"A nap?" Corenna's lip curled. "Huh. Excuse me."

Jason waited until Corenna was out of sight, then he dropped another kiss on top

of Melissa's head. "Warriors don't nap, my sweet. You may owe Drakal an apology."

Melissa performed a dramatic eye roll and lifted her brows at her daughter. "See what I mean?"

Maegan caught her father's eye and couldn't look away. Jason's stern amber gaze held concern and questions, and made her want to squirm as it had always done when she was a child. She knew what was coming.

Jason, as always, didn't waste any time getting to the core of what he wanted to know. "How is it," he asked, "that Alerik Mariltar doesn't know he has a marriage partner?"

"We were just talk--" Melissa broke off with a grimace of her expressive mouth, and widened her eyes at Maegan.

She hadn't seen anything, but Maegan was sure her father must have sent her mother some subtle signal.

Her Earth mother she could argue with and hold a position for as long as it took. Her Mariltar father was a far different case. He could tear down her defenses and change her way of thinking without even trying, it seemed. As a teenager, she had figured that out and learned strategies to guard against him to protect her most ionate causes.

She was evidently out of practice, because with one look and a few simple words, her reasons for not communicating a simple fact to her husband had become illogical and cowardly.

She stiffened her spine. "I'll talk with him," she promised. "When the winds are gone, I'll go back to Pallas Five."

She would have the better part of a cycle, at least, to decide what to say to him and figure out the rest of her life.

It didn't seem like nearly enough time.

Chapter 27

Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising Pallas Five

A man Alerik didn't know stared back at him from the vid screen. The caption identified him as Counselor Forman of Pallas Seven. He had a pleasant, smiling face with a greenish cast. The Liartian did not look like a cold-blooded killer, but then no one ever did.

"Did I ever meet Counselor Forman?"

"You met all the counselors when you first arrived. Some tried to bribe you with gifts. He offered the most extravagant. You didn't like him."

"Did we investigate the others?" Alerik looked over to where Sharm Foster was sprawled on a hard bench in the windowless white healing chamber. His frustration levels were spiking. This inability to recent events had him deeply worried. The medtechs' insistence on keeping him in the healing chamber rather than transferring him to a normal recovery room was an added irritant. Overlying it all was the increasingly persistent feeling that something was very wrong. On the other hand, he was enormously relieved that Sharm had appeared a few nans ago. He'd come straight from his mission on Pallas Seven, this report in hand.

Sharm represented normalcy and could give him back some of his memories.

"We investigated all of them. We found well-hidden ing discrepancies at the corporation run by the counselor on Pallas Four. The counselor on Pallas Two has a stable of male lovers, unbeknownst to his female marriage partner of twenty-five years. The Pallas Three counselor is more interested in hunting germils in the scrublands than in arbitrating. We knew Pallas Seven was the location for death fights, but we didn't link the counselor. Forman covered his tracks well. Even faked an assassination attempt. We received the anonymous tip just when you went off to The Divide."

Alerik shook his head. "I don't that either."

His frustration notched up. To his dismay, he felt the soothing flow of the drug enter his veins. He hated the slieking machine, hated the necessity for the drug. It blunted his reasoning skills, but the medtechs had told him it was his one chance to regain his short-term memories. That part of his brain needed to heal.

He had a thousand questions for Sharm, but he forced his attention back to the report and scrolled through the remaining screens. He paused at one section.

"They knew you were coming?"

"No question. We walked into the same trap the counselor did. Someone, the tipster probably, set up a firefight to make it look like we killed Counselor Forman. It was a surprisingly amateur job, but could have worked if the forensics had been dispensed with. Daxl was found in his system. While he had wounds from Mariltar weapons, none were the kill shot. That came from a

common brossstick which, of course some of us still carry, but rarely use. And I checked. None of ours were discharged."

"A power play?"

"Maybe. The lucrative death fights are finished. We'll be watching that closely, so the question becomes why?"

"And who. Be interesting to see what names are presented for the next counselor."

"Indeed. I've heard the proprietor of The Alabaster Nightshade is a frontrunner. Our investigation continues. I need to gather the team for a strategy session, which means bringing Corenna and Drakal back from Pallas Four. Any reason why Maegan is back there?"

"Who?"

"Balls of Sortor!" Sharm straightened, a peculiar look on his face. "I knew something was off."

"Explain." Despite the drug, Alerik felt his irritation soar. Besides missing a major chunk of his memory and his life, he'd had the feeling his visitors, especially his team, had avoided telling him something particularly important. Of course they had denied doing so when he'd charged them with it directly. Now he was about to find out what it was. Sharm would never withhold

anything from him.

Yet when he looked into his second's face, he could see he was sorely tempted. What could cause such a critical dynamic to change?

Sharm muttered something and stood up. "You don't know who Maegan is?"

"No."

"Had any young female visitors with blonde hair, green eyes?"

A memory of a worried face hovering above him popped into Alerik's mind. "Yes, the first day I was out of my coma, I believe."

Sharm grunted. "She's your mate."

Shock cramped his thoughts and rode an adrenalin wave through his body. When the initial rush was over and the questions had sorted themselves out, he said, "Who is she?"

"Maegan Shale, Commander Trion's daughter."

Impossible. He connected now the memories of the green-eyed waif from his

childhood with the woman he had seen oh so briefly cycles before. He'd had an occasional reluctant iration for the girl who had rebelled against so much of what he had been taught to believe in.

He would never have chosen her for a mate.

Sharm was watching him and not bothering to hide a grin. Alerik knew him well enough to see the hint of worry in his eyes. "That got your gonads, didn't it?"

"Did I lose my mind as well as my slieking memory? What else happened?"

"Everything else is sort of connected. Hasn't anyone told you anything?"

"Oh, they've been filling me in on my governorship and the Taragon issue. No one's mentioned one word of a mate."

"Maegan must've told them not to." Sharm jerked his head. "What's her agenda now, I wonder?"

Alerik had a hundred questions. He asked the one that trumped the others. "Why would I choose her? Granted, she's the daughter of my father's second, who was just here and didn't say a word either. But she's rebellious and unconventional and she's so eminently unsuitable for my career."

"Match Key."

That one hit him in the gut. "Sacred blood of Cor. I consulted the Match Key?"

Sharm lifted his shoulders and grinned wider. "You did."

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"Couldn't. You had this thing about miniature Aleriks."

"What?"

A medtech stalked into the chamber. "I don't know what you two are discussing, but his counts are going moon-high. Enough." He pushed at pads on the monitor. "You're going back to sleep, Governor.

"You need to leave now, sir," he told Sharm.

The drug was working fast. He didn't want to go back under. He still had so many questions. Sharm was arguing with the medtech about something. Alerik's tongue felt bloated.

"Sharm," he barked. His voice sounded strange. "Bring her here!"

* * * *

Maegan paused at the entrance to the healing chamber and leaned her burning forehead against the cool wall. Gods, could she go through with this? Her heart was shattered into a thousand pieces and each shard pierced the wall of her chest, causing an excruciating, all-consuming pain.

At the height of the wilding winds, Corenna had delivered a summons from Sharm Foster. Alerik Mariltar requested her presence on Pallas Five. After that, decisions were made in which she had had no part. Her mother, father, Corenna and Drakal would all accompany her.

Instead, as the wilding winds had begun to die down, she'd used the tunnels to get to Pallas Four's main dock where Janas kept a small shuttle.

The medtech on duty in the Pallas Five clinic had wanted her to wait. Alerik was in a deep healing sleep. But if she waited, she might never go through with this. And she had to. Alerik deserved better. His future was clearly written. Mariltar needed him. The Coalition needed him. She could never be a political wife.

She needed him.

Fresh pain tore through her chest. She straightened. Enough. Get it over with and go on. She could go back to how it was before he had invaded her life. She slapped her hand against the door .

He lay in the healing pod, his strong features relaxed in sleep. His sapphire temple mark beat a pure, bright blue. She leaned over him and rested her lips against it, felt the life force that was so precious to her. This moment would have to last her forever.

Before she could change her mind, she touched the screen above his head. The rhythm of the machines changed. She drew back, watched his eyelids flutter, watched his eyes open.

She saw the exact moment when he recognized her. His eyes changed from pure, sleepy sapphire to a cloudy, dark blue. And she knew she had made the right decision.

"Alerik."

"Maegan Shale."

"You asked for me?"

"It seems we are bonded." His face had become a rigid mask. A muscle jumped in his cheek. His warrior training still served him well in the ability to go from sleep to being hyper alert in a nanonan. "You neglected to inform me of that when you were here before."

She shrugged her shoulders and struggled to breathe. "It was a mistake. The Match Key didn't have all the facts on me. You'll find out soon enough if you

don't already know. I've been involved in activities here that have not been endorsed by the Coalition. You, yourself, arrested me for treason. I'm simply not a suitable mate for a Mariltar heir. You knew that before you lost your memory. You were about to call a quorum to dissolve the partnership." The last lie threatened to stick in her throat and choke her. She forced it out. "There is nothing between us. The Match Key was wrong."

He was silent for so long, she was afraid she would give in to the temptation to run screaming in utter misery from the room. The cold blue gaze held hers captive, probed, as if he knew there was a truth she hadn't revealed. If he didn't accept her explanation, she didn't know what she would do. She was terrified the right question would make her confess everything.

"Are you pregnant?"

Of all the questions he could have asked, this one was the most unexpected, and the coldest. She took a step back. The question grounded her as nothing else could have. Her wavering determination to see her decision through solidified again. "Of course not."

His eyes narrowed. He gave a single nod. "I'll gather the quorum today."

Outside the healing room, Maegan's rigid control deserted her. She staggered to the wall and leaned against it. The simple act of breathing was unbearably painful. She ignored the inquiring gazes of the medtech and the two Mariltar warriors who guarded the room. She didn't know either of them.

It was done!

Or it would be as soon as Alerik gathered his quorum.

"Ma'am? Are you all right? Ma'am?"

Lifting her head took an incredible amount of effort. The young guard looked so worried, she forced herself to smile. Speaking was beyond her ability at that moment.

"Please."

She couldn't have been very convincing. He gestured to a bench not far away.

"No," she croaked. She swallowed and tried again. "I have a vessel waiting. I must go."

"No, ma'am." She hadn't seen the older guard approach. "You have no escort. We can't let you go."

The challenge gave Maegan the jolt she needed. She straightened. "Sorry," she said, "you can't stop me." She started down the hall of healing chambers. Morgon now lay in a private one as well. This wasn't the right time for a visit, even if she'd been in the mood.

The hair on her nape prickled. She expected to be stopped at any moment. The guards wouldn't leave Alerik unprotected, so only one would come after her. She could take on one, if she had to.

She ed the last healing chamber and resisted looking back. The thick plexidoors into the common area of the med clinic swung open at her approach.

There was more activity in this room than when she had ed through earlier. She ignored it all and made her way to the platform for the tube shuttle.

Within nans, a shuttle pulled up. She stepped forward as the doors opened. A hard hand closed around her arm. A body was at her back forcing her into the car, when her instinct was to run.

"Maegan."

She should have known. The guards had let her walk out too easily. "Commander Foster."

She jerked out of his grasp, but was too slow. The doors had closed. He programmed in a stop.

"Why so formal?"

"Where are we going?"

"The governor's habitat."

"I don't belong there anymore and you have no right to detain me."

"Blood of Cor."

There was a violence in Sharm's tone that Maegan had never heard before. It made her pause, but only for a moment.

She reached for the control .

Sharm's hand flashed out and knocked hers aside as the shuttle began to slow. It was still some distance from the governor's habitat. The display showed two people waiting to board at the next stop. It might present an opportunity. She had no interest in Sharm's agenda. Her instinct was to get away. She desperately needed time alone.

Even as she braced for action, Sharm did something to the controls. The shuttle sped up. It wasn't going to stop.

"He agreed to dissolve our marriage partnership. You no longer need to concern yourself with me." She turned her head to address him and, for the first time, got a good look at him. She couldn't help but stare. Even in uniform, Sharm appeared elegant and always well-groomed. Today, in loose gray breeches and soft jacket, his hair in spikes, he looked like he had just climbed out of bed,

which he probably had.

He bared his teeth at her. "I'm concerned with Alerik," he said grimly. "Which means I'm concerned with you, since Alerik isn't in his right mind. Somehow, I thought you'd be up to something like this."

"I--"

He flung up his hand. "Not here. We'll settle this at the habitat."

Maegan pressed her lips together. There wasn't anything to settle. This was just a small delay in her plans. Sharm would be summoned soon to the quorum anyway.

He didn't say another word. The silence was grating on Maegan's nerves by the time the shuttle stopped at the habitat. They were barely inside the empty residence before she jumped into her attack.

"You know this is for the best," she said, and hated the thin shakiness of her voice. "He didn't even argue. He doesn't anything about our marriage partnership, and he's being recalled, probably to Magnilium. You, more than anyone, should understand this partnership should never have happened. I'm not the right mate for him."

She paused. Sharm was planted in front of her, legs apart, arms folded, expression stony. She couldn't tell if she was getting through to him or not. He

didn't seem inclined to respond.

A faint buzz broke the silence.

"That's probably him. That's your communicator, isn't it? You're being summoned to his quorum. Better go."

"What makes you think the quorum will give you the results you want?"

"What?" Maegan stared at him open-mouthed and felt the beginnings of panic swirl through her veins. She had been so certain of the conclusion.

Sharm lifted his shoulders. "The quorum requires consensus. What makes you so sure it will deliver that?"

"Why would you not give him consensus?" she whispered. "You have to."

He lifted his brows and shook his head. "Wrong. I don't, nor do the others."

"But this is what he wants."

"He doesn't know. How can he? He's missing a large part of his memory. You do him a great disservice with this action."

"They're calling him to Magnilium," she repeated. "I don't want to go there. I cannot. My life is here. I can't be the marriage partner he needs and deserves. This partnership should never have happened. You, more than anyone, know that."

Sharm's comm buzzed again. He didn't even flinch. "I thought I knew that. At the very beginning. I changed my mind when I saw how you two were together."

It was all Maegan could do to stay standing as memories assaulted her. "We were physically attracted to one another. So? It was an interlude. People move on. He re none of that anyway. This way he can choose a mate better suited to who and what he wants to be."

"You're deluding yourself and you're a coward." Sharm's brutal coldness was far from the kind man she thought she knew. "I have never seen two people better suited for one another. You're giving up on him when he needs you the most, because you're afraid to face a future not of your choosing. Where's the enormous courage and comion that put you into that network rescuing children?"

He grabbed for his comm, which now emitted a constant buzz, and glanced at it. "I have to go." He raised a stern, unyielding gaze to Maegan. "Stay here. I mean it. Do not make me come after you."

In the cold, empty silence, Maegan stared at the closed door and whispered, "You're so wrong. He doesn't need me. There is nothing left of what we had."

Except her love for a man who looked at her without a shred of recognition in his icy, sapphire eyes.

* * * *

Against the advice of two medtechs, Alerik had checked himself out of the clinic. He couldn't lie hooked up to machines while others decided the course of his life.

Earlier in the day, his quorum had failed him. Not one member had agreed to the dissolution of his marriage partnership. Sharm Foster, once loyal friend, second and staunch er, had actually demanded he wait for forty cycles before gathering the quorum again.

Forty cycles! What did they know about his marriage partnership that he couldn't and his mate hadn't told him?

He strode beneath an arch of sillban trees, whose large, thick, silver-green leaves offered some relief from the scorching sun. He couldn't even if this was the hottest day he had experienced on Pallas Five. The deserted path was also unfamiliar. Thickly planted with trees and shrubs on either side, it wound through a grid of squat buildings. Nothing on Pallas Five appeared higher than five levels. Overhead, above the tree canopy, a shuttle zipped by on the single track. It would have been faster, but he had needed to walk, needed to think, needed to release some energy.

He also, apparently, needed to have another conversation with his mate. His comm directed him to turn. He was close to the building he had lived in as

governor, and of which he had no memory.

He inhaled warm air scented with the sharp sweetness of some bloom. If nothing else, it felt good to be out of the sterile atmosphere of the clinic and especially the confines of the healing pod.

The medtechs weren't certain how much, if any, of his memory would return. It was odd how he could so clearly his childhood, his academy training, his first three assignments. He appeared to have all his memories right up until the time the governorship of Pallas Five had been offered, then it all dropped into a frustrating, nightmarish black void. Sharm had even told him he'd had a choice between the governorship and a lesser seat on the Coalition Council.

Why in Sagar's name would he have chosen the governorship of an obscure little asteroid belt?

He was becoming more convinced it all led back to his mate, Maegan Shale.

He left the shaded path and started up the steps to the governor's habitat.

His comm buzzed with Sharm's code. He wasn't terribly inclined to speak with him at the moment. Sharm hadn't ed his decision to leave the clinic either.

The years of a trusting relationship won out. "Yes?" he snapped.

"Thought you might like to know." Sharm sounded far too cheerful for a man who'd had a shouting match with him earlier. "The Doganlite has just arrived. Your parents are aboard."

Why didn't that surprise him? Alerik stopped at the door of the habitat. He turned to look back at the city. The pale yellow stone of the buildings shimmered in the fierce sun. "I just arrived at the habitat. I need some time." Inspiration struck. "Get them together with her parents."

"Not sure that's a good idea. You know both sets gave enthusiastic consent to your marriage partnership?"

"How would I know that?" Alerik said curtly. His irritation and confusion notched up another level. His parents had ed the marriage? With enthusiasm? Not something he could picture, especially from his father.

"Right." Sharm was unrepentant. "Just wanted to warn you, they're more likely as a group to come down on her side than yours."

The entire situation was becoming more bizarre by the nan. "And have you finally ed who and what you are to me, that you're now fully ive of my position?"

"Wouldn't go that far, but thought you at least deserved a warning. Have to go now. Our distinguished visitors demand a proper welcome."

"Wait--" But Sharm was gone and ignored his attempt to re- him.

With a grim urgency, Alerik faced the door to the governor's habitat and pressed his hand over the pad. He wasn't used to being ignored. He wasn't used to not having full control.

He was taking his life back. Now.

The habitat was cool and silent. It felt empty. Sharm had assured him Maegan would be here. He had surveillance on her due to her odd tendency to disappear, he said, and then he'd made some oblique reference to no tunnels at the governor's habitat. For some reason, he'd found that funny but hadn't bothered to enlighten Alerik.

As he strode through the rooms, he saw his personal belongings, but there wasn't even a flicker of recognition of the rooms themselves.

As he entered the last room--the largest bedchamber--he was beginning to think she had evaded Sharm's surveillance and was gone.

But there she was. Sprawled across the sleeping platform in untidy sleep.

The urgency in him died an abrupt death, and a peculiar anticipation took its place. He approached the sleeping platform slowly. This was his mate. He had been inside her body, touched her, made love to her.

Even if his mind couldn't dredge up the memory, shouldn't his body know?

She lay on her stomach, her arms and legs flung in every direction. She wore a pale green body suit that molded to the deep valley of her spine and hugged the beautiful curves of her bottom. She was too thin. He could see the protrusion of bones where there should have been more padding.

She was still using the slieking nutro tablets.

Where had that thought come from? And why? There wasn't a single other memory that accompanied it. His sense of frustration was interesting though, because he recognized it was connected to the thought. He had cared what this woman ate?

Her hair had come loose from its tight binding at her nape and flowed across her back in silk-fine strands. A thick lock was draped across her cheek and her slender hand, which cradled her face. He bent to brush it aside.

At first , a jolt of electricity whipped through his body. Every nerve came to life with an almost painful intensity. She muttered in her sleep and shifted her face. On the hand that had cradled her face, a sapphire band glowed around the base of three fingers.

Another jolt attacked him. His chosen mate.

He stepped back from the sleeping platform.

What, by the fires of Crillac, was he going to do?

Chapter 28

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising Pallas Five

The gods of the Mariltar Nation still didn't have an answer for him many nans later, but his parents and Maegan's certainly did. The discussion bouncing around the great room of the governor's habitat was vigorous and loud. While they argued details, they were all in agreement about one thing. The Match Key could not be disputed. Even his mother, of all people, who'd had no say in her choice of mate because of the Match Key, had apparently come to this conclusion as well.

Alerik glanced across the room at the one person who hadn't yet weighed in.

Morgon Trion.

The man had suffered the same treatment he had at the hands of the shapriestess, but his memory loss was random. Alerik couldn't meeting him.

Morgon sat relaxed in a chair, his hands steepled under his chin, his face expressionless. There was no doubt, though, he was intently focused on the conversation.

The other subject of the discussion, besides himself, was still asleep.

Or maybe she wasn't. There was movement in his peripheral vision. Maegan came into view. She no longer wore the body suit, for which he was grateful, but was dressed in a too-conservative, pale gray, knee-length tunic over leggings of the same color. Her hair was bound tightly back from her face.

He felt a peculiar singe of irritation. He wanted her to leave it loose.

Her spectacular mother stood almost directly in front of Maegan with her back to her daughter. Melissa's hair was dressed in colorful fabric and metal twists, and she wore a flowing rainbow gown that hugged a still amazing figure.

Curious, the contrast between the two women. Did Maegan go to extreme lengths with conservative dress in rebellion against her mother's showiness? He felt he had gained some important insight, but wasn't sure what it really meant yet.

He watched her take in the scene in the room, knew the exact moment when she noticed him. Even at this distance, he could tell she tensed. But her gaze moved on, as if he was irrelevant, and settled on Morgon. Her whole face lit up.

His heart cramped.

She stepped forward. Her father noticed her first and immediately went to her to

draw her into the group. She greeted his parents politely and, as soon as she could, extricated herself and went to Morgon. Once again, Alerik felt an odd biting pain in his chest as he watched a thus far unemotional Morgon enfold his niece lovingly in his arms.

Then suddenly everyone's attention was on him, and for the briefest of nans, and one of the very few times in his life, he didn't know how to react.

The breach was unwittingly filled by Maegan. "Alerik," she said from the shelter of her uncle's side, "I didn't know you would be released this soon from the clinic."

"He wasn't released." His father's tone was stiff with disapproval. "He checked himself out and he needs to go back."

"Morgon?" Maegan turned to her uncle, her body language screaming concern. "You too?"

And for the third time, Alerik's heart cramped. She was more distressed about Morgon's condition than her mate's? Where was the promise of the Match Key and why, by all the burning starpits in the universe, did he care? This morning he had just wanted to be done with this bizarre arrangement.

"No, leela," Morgon reassured her. "I am healed, though I may always have some memory gaps. Time alone will answer that question."

To his peers, he said, "They must talk."

There was a general chorus of agreement from the others. Alerik bore the stern silence of his father's warning gaze, accepted his mother's kiss and heard her murmur, "Do the right thing, my son."

But his attention was focused on his mate and Morgon. He saw Morgon say something in Maegan's ear, saw her squeeze her eyes shut and give a brief nod. Above all, it was the gaze Morgon turned on him that gave him pause, more than any of the words that had been said on the subject. It battered against the barrier of his certainty and tore at his shield of confidence.

The room cleared.

He was alone with his mate.

* * * *

"Be true to your heart." Morgon's words, the words of the wisest man she had ever known, reverberated in Maegan's skull. She sank into the chair he had vacated. The problem was she wasn't sure she knew her heart anymore.

Oh, she knew that Alerik had claimed a piece of it--a large piece of it--that no one else would ever have. But her mind was telling her it wasn't enough.

It might have been.

When Alerik held her in his arms and showed her through fiery ion and gentle touch that he had feelings for her, it might have been enough to follow him anywhere and try to be the mate he deserved.

She simply couldn't deal with this man with the cold eyes who had no memory of those times and showed no inclination to recreate them. This man was a purely political creature, raised to follow and execute the beliefs and traditions of his own race first, then to integrate them with those of a multi-nation coalition.

And that, to her way of thinking, was where the gross contradictions came in. The architects of the post-conflict Vision had expected massive compromise from a diverse group of people. Wary of losing their national identities completely, the leaders of the nine nations had been slow to give compromises, even with interracial marriage partnerships at the highest levels.

Morgon's Janas Corporation, with its young multi-nation staff, demonstrated far more successful integration than the efforts of the Coalition Council.

Alerik's large body appeared in front of her. She couldn't look in his face and focused just below his chin instead.

"The quorum failed," he said bluntly.

"I know," she whispered. "Sharm told me he wouldn't it." A peculiar feeling was writhing through her veins, part elation, part sadness. She couldn't figure it out.

"None of them did." Alerik sounded almost angry. "Which makes me wonder, wife, what you haven't told me."

She snapped her head up. "Would you have listened and cared?"

The glacial expression in his eyes made her shudder.

"I have no memory of you, but why wouldn't I have listened? I entered into a marriage partnership with you. It was dictated by the Match Key, granted, but the Match Key has never failed. We must have made some emotional connection, yet you made it sound like there was none."

His face could have been chiseled from granite, and his eyes had narrowed to piercing slivers. "Why is that I wonder?" His hand shot out to clamp around her chin as she would have turned her head to hide her guilt. "Don't look away!

"I do believe my quorum, much as I disagreed with them this morning, was right after all. It seems we have some work to do."

"I told you this morning," she said desperately, "I'm not the right mate for you. You incarcerated me for treason! I cannot, I won't go to Magnilium with you."

Alerik's eyebrow shot up. He released her chin. "Interesting statements all, if a little hard to follow how they're all connected. But they're a starting point. At one time, Maegan, I must have believed without question you were the right mate for me. You will help me get back to that point. Understand this. If you don't for whatever unfathomable reason, others will."

Maegan gritted her teeth. "You should never have married me. Does it not matter that I've operated in an illegal network? You're the one who called it treasonous. Why would you, a Mariltar heir, want a mate who is clearly so unsuitable?"

"Those are interesting and noteworthy questions, yet despite your self-confessed unsuitability, your parents and my core team clearly approve of the part--"

"They approve of the Match Key, which should have been abandoned as an obsolete, archaic convention long ago," Maegan snapped.

"Perhaps." He reached for her.

Too late, she realized his intent. She couldn't even get in a kick, before he pulled her tight against his body. He grasped her nape and lowered his head. His breath was warm on her cheek, and then his mouth settled over hers.

She was trapped, unable to make the slightest movement to get away. Held by bonds that weren't physical in nature, as the ion she thought never to feel again exploded and seared her blood.

When the pressure of his mouth eased and his arms loosened, she could only clutch at him weakly for .

"That," he said, his voice rough and uneven, "is why this partnership won't be dissolved."

Chapter 29

Margaine Confluence:/Third Rising Pallas Five

The MagnaStar was two hanans past its scheduled departure time. Alerik had been warned--thoroughly. Yet despite what he thought had been sufficient precautions, his mate had still gone missing.

Corenna and Drakal, assigned to make sure she was at the vessel well in advance of departure, didn't know where she was.

His parents and hers, waiting aboard the MagnaStar, didn't have a slieking clue.

Pallas Five's dock recorded no unauthorized departure. Pallas Four's dock had no record of an unauthorized arrival.

The captain of the MagnaStar had long since taken the shuttle back to his vessel to readjust his voyage plan. He had no choice but to wait. His vessel was chartered to bring the Mariltar party and the Coalition Council's newest junior member to Magnilium. They could hardly leave without Alerik Mariltar's mate.

Alerik couldn't help himself. He began to pace in tight circles on the dock, which

lay baking in the hot mid-day sun of Pallas Five. He glanced at Sharm and scowled. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Perched on a pylon in the shade, Sharm shrugged. "It was fun watching you go through this the first time. It's even more fun the second time."

Alerik's already sour mood worsened. "What in blazing starpits is that supposed to mean?"

"She turns you upside down and inside out, my friend. She's that guilty pleasure you know you should resist but can't. Which is exactly why you're still bonded to her and relearning all her complexities. This time around, you still haven't figured out that ordering her to do something isn't the most intelligent move."

Alerik skidded to a halt, fists planted on his hips. "She's my mate," he shouted, completely out of patience. "She goes where I go. We had an agreement."

"An agreement?" Sharm straightened up. "What sort of agreement?"

Alerik paused as he recalled that difficult negotiation and his frustration at not being clear within himself as to what exactly the stakes were. "She agreed to three rotations minimum on Magnilium."

"That satisfies your goal. Partially. What's in it for her?"

"She's my mate," Alerik shouted again. Unbelievable. His shredded patience was scattering to the winds, and he couldn't seem to gather it no matter how hard he tried.

"I think everyone knows that." The female voice dripped disdain.

Alerik pivoted on his heels. His missing wife, with Morgon at her heels, marched past him without a glance. Her hair, for once not confined in a tight knot at her nape, bobbed in perky defiance in a single sleek tail against her back.

"What's his problem?" she said to Sharm. "I heard him half way down the dock. Everyone else did too. Where's the shuttle?"

"The shuttle," he told her through gritted teeth, "is on its way back from the MagnaStar. Where have you been?"

The emotions warring inside him did nothing for his patience. His intense relief at her appearance was quickly overcome by a strong desire to grab her and shake her. That was followed just as quickly by a need to bend her back over his arm and kiss her until she caved to his every desire.

She turned, a surprised look on her face. "On Pallas Four."

"Neither dock recorded your trip."

She looked even more surprised. "I told you. Smart dock," she said. "Morgon has one here too. Which I didn't know about until a cycle ago."

"You're late." Alerik made a huge effort to recall his patience. What had she told him and when? Was he continuing to lose parts of his memory?

Morgon stood beside his niece, as always, a pillar of cool calm, even in the midst of a gathering storm. Today he wore typical Mariltar clothing of tunic and breeches in shades of dark blue, and half boots. His face bore a faint expression of amusement. His silver temple mark glowed clear and bright. He clearly had no concerns about his niece's behavior. "Mechanical problems." He followed that brief statement with a toothy grin. "Lost thrusters when she exceeded the new shuttle's velocity recommendations."

"What?"

A muffled sound escaped from Sharm.

Maegan shoved at her uncle's arm. "Why did you tell him that? He fusses like an old bidaque as it is."

This time, Sharm didn't bother to hold back his chuckles.

Out of patience again, Alerik reached for Maegan. She slid nimbly away from him, putting her uncle between them.

"You could have let someone know where you were and that you were going to be late." He'd deal with the issue of her sneaking off later. That had to stop. The stories Sharm had told him, when he'd been lying confined in the healing pod again, had raised the hair on his nape.

She peered at him from Morgon's other side. "I did. Didn't you check your comm?"

Sharm doubled over howling like a fool. Morgon, to his credit, seemed to be trying to control his grin. Alerik had turned his comm off when every report had been negative on Maegan's whereabouts. Sharm received the same reports and would fill him in as necessary. He hadn't thought for one nan that Maegan would him directly.

"Here's the shuttle." Maegan threw her arms around her uncle's neck. "I'll miss you so much."

"Be good, leela," her uncle cautioned in return. ", he's just a man and your mate. Communication is always good in a relationship. I'll come to visit soon."

Just a man?

Why did that make him feel like he was the problem here, instead of a contrary female who couldn't ever seem to do what she was told? Alerik frowned at the lead contender for his replacement as governor of the Grogon Asteroid Belt. Morgon didn't know he was a candidate yet, and Alerik wasn't free to disclose that bit of information. Maegan's uncle might have to revise the timing on his

promise.

Maegan gave Morgon another squeeze and pulled away. Without so much as a glance at Alerik, she headed for the shuttle. Just steps away from it, she whirled and ran back to where Sharm stood.

"I forgot you were staying behind," she said, and she pulled him into a fierce hug.

Sharm would ease the transition for the new governor, and re them on Magnilium. Over Maegan's shoulder, his friend and second caught Alerik's gaze as he returned the hug with equal vigor. There was something in his expression, something he didn't bother to hide, that Alerik didn't like at all. He became instantly wary. Sharm had become a Maegan er, but was there more to it than that? The mutual hug went on for entirely too long.

With a growl of warning, he moved to reclaim his mate. He hadn't even completed a step when a bolt of pain drove through his skull. It was so intense, it dropped him to his knees on the hot legite dock. He heard Sharm shout, heard Maegan's cry of alarm.

Her hands gripped his shoulders. Her face, white and scared, appeared before him as a blur. She turned her head and he heard her cry her uncle's name, but she still clutched his shoulders. That became his anchor as he battled the blinding agony.

The rapid thud of booted feet on the dock competed with the unbearable pounding in his head. He was aware, dimly, of bodies pressing around him,

hands pulling him to his feet. Voices urging him to move.

Through it all, he knew Maegan was holding onto him. He heard Morgon's name called, caught Sharm's raised voice mixed in with others.

He felt himself being moved out of the hot sun, into a blessedly cool place where the light was less blinding. He felt the pain beginning to dissipate. Gentle hands-Maegan's?--pulled straps across his chest, his waist, and he realized, in a disconnected, dream-like way, that he was in a shuttle seat.

Maegan was asking questions, demanding answers. Sharm was shouting orders somewhere in the distance. Suddenly all sound cut off. The shuttle doors must have closed.

"Alerik?"

He forced his eyes open, easier now, as the pain in his head continued to recede.

Maegan knelt in front of him. Her green eyes were filled with fear. Her brow was creased with worry. "Is it better?" She touched him gently on his cheek.

You are never getting away from me, mate.

He nodded, unable to speak through the brew of emotions welling inside of him. Her heart was in her expression, and though his memory was still imperfect, his

own had responded. One day, he would speak to her of that moment.

"Maegan, you need to strap in." Drakal helped Maegan to her feet and into the seat next to Alerik. And even that brief, helping sent a jealous anger rippling through his veins.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "What happened?"

"We don't know." The voice was Corenna's. "Drakal and I had just arrived at the dock. Whatever it was, it affected Morgon as well, although not as severely as it did you."

"Where's Morgon?"

"Sharm took him to the Pallas Five clinic."

"No one else felt, saw, heard anything?"

"No, sir."

The hum of the shuttle's systems filled the silence that followed. After a nan, Maegan murmured what Alerik had known in his heart to be true, "She is still alive."

* * * *

"We have unfinished business, that's why."

"Like what? What could be so important?" Maegan threw up her hands and scowled at the medtech, who was doing precisely nothing to stop Alerik as he clambered nude from the healing pod.

"I don't think you want me to answer that in detail before an audience," he said. He seemed unconcerned about his lack of clothing and the fact that the medtech, who was supposed to be a professional, was ogling him like she'd never seen a naked man before.

Her own body began buzzing with crazy little tingles as the look in his sapphire eyes left no doubt as to the meaning of his words. She almost caved right then and there, but someone had to be responsible for his health.

"Can't you zap him with something?" she demanded to the woman beside her. "You said another cycle at least."

"Another cycle would be beneficial," the medtech responded, not bothering to hide her amusement, "but the commander is past the point in his healing where we can require him to stay."

"Did you hear that?" Alerik's voice was muffled as he bent to open a cabinet, and treated both women to a spectacular view of his muscled bare ass and dangling

male parts. "They can't require me to stay, therefore, I'm leaving. Because we have unfinished business." He straightened. "Where in blazing starpits are my clothes?"

"I'm calling your mother."

"Someone might want to give me my clothes first. It's been a few years since she's seen me without them."

The medtech snickered. She crossed the small chamber to open up a on the other side of the cabinet. "In here, sir."

The triumphant gaze Alerik sent in her direction contributed to Maegan's growing suspicions. Gone was the cold, unemotional lack of recognition. "Have you ed stuff?"

Alerik was pulling on his tunic, which of course he had to select as the first piece of clothing, instead of his breeches.

"Think so."

His head emerged from the neck opening. The look in his eyes sent shudders racing through her body. "Which is why we have unfinished business."

"Stop saying that," she snapped. She tried desperately to build her defenses, and

not think about his intent. "How much have you ed?"

"Don't know." He yanked on his breeches. "But I'm about to find out."

She should be happy. She was happy. Gods, this was all so complicated. It had been complicated even before he lost his memory. Part of her wanted to jump on a shuttle and head into the vast unknown, but her traitorous body was screaming for what would happen next.

He shoved his feet into his half boots. "Thank you for the care, ma'am," he said politely to the medtech. To Maegan, he said a lot less politely, "Let's go."

He took her arm and hustled her from the healing chamber into the core of the small, quiet medical center. From there, he unerringly picked the set of doors that led into the MagnaStar's main corridor.

With the main mess hall at one end and communications at the other, there was some traffic in the corridor. Alerik, still gripping her firmly, took several steps toward the mess hall. He paused and looked down at her.

"Where to?"

"Where are we going?" It was equivalent to baiting a sanddog, but she couldn't help herself.

He grunted and backed her up against the wall. "I was hoping that memory of how contrary you can be was fabricated, but evidently not. I can do this just about anywhere, including back in there." He jerked his head at the medical center. "But I'm guessing you'd prefer a little more privacy."

"If you're just going to yell at me, we can--"

"Not what I had in mind. You have two nanonans."

"And then?"

He sighed. "Then I'm calling my mother. But I really hope you won't make me do that."

She pretended to consider as anticipation built within her and his eyes turned smoky with warning. "All right. Follow me."

She led him to the lift tube and keyed in the level to the cabins for the Mariltar party. The first person they saw as they stepped off the tube was Joanna Chase, Alerik's mother. The second was Maegan's, who emerged just then from one of the cabins. Both women were dressed for the evening in knee length tunics and wide-legged, soft tros.

"Pormiam's breath," Alerik muttered. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd arranged this. Our cabin had better be on this level."

Maegan choked back a nervous laugh and drew a deep breath as their mothers approached.

Gorgeous in emerald green, Joanna smiled with delight as she spotted them. "Feeling better, dear? Have more of your memories returned?"

"What?" Outraged, Maegan turned to her mate. "How did she know your memories were coming back and I didn't?"

Alerik gripped her arm a little tighter. "My thanks, mother. You might have kept that to yourself a little longer."

"It's best not to keep secrets." Joanna was unrepentant. "Will you be ing us for the evening meal with the captain?"

Melissa, eye-catching in her signature rainbow colors, laughed. "I think you can see the answer to that, Joanna. Stop causing trouble. Come along."

"Your cabin is very nice, dear--and it's right across from the one your father and I have. Your mate's parents are on the other side."

"Good grief." Melissa rolled her eyes at Maegan as she tugged Joanna toward the lift tube. "They're not sixteen anymore and they are bonded. This dinner could last a half cycle, children. Enjoy yourselves."

Mortified, Maegan wondered if the entire vessel knew of Alerik's plans.

"They're both equally bad," her mate growled, as he propelled her down the corridor. "I don't know why our fathers allow them to associate with each other."

That did it. Her frayed nerves couldn't take anymore. "Allow them?" Maegan yanked her arm from his grasp and poked him in the chest. "Allow them? Guess what, Neanderthal?" It was an ancient Earth term, and she didn't know where it had come from, but it sounded good. "As old as my father is, there's respect and equality in their partnership. He doesn't blindly subscribe to customs that are as ancient as Sagar himself. My mother has an equal say in her marriage."

"That's just one of the things we're going to talk about. Eventually." The slap of Alerik's hand against the cabin's access was sharp and loud. Nothing happened.

Someone cleared his throat. "That's mine, son. Yours is across the hall."

Maegan jerked around. Not again. Their fathers had clearly just come out of the neighboring cabin, which belonged to her parents. Their faces bore expressions of polite interest.

Her father showed no inclination to intervene as Alerik gave an impatient tug that made her stumble across the corridor. He stood calmly beside the Neanderthal's father and commented, "Old? Do you feel old? I don't feel old."

"Children do have odd ideas about their parents, don't they?" she heard Alex Mariltar respond, just as his son managed to get the right cabin door open this time.

He pulled her inside and sealed off the outside world.

Alerik crossed immediately to the storage cabinets and began rummaging through the clothes inside, muttering under his breath. He emerged holding a pair of her thin leggings. As he scanned the room and twisted the garment in his hands, his intent dawned on her.

"Oh, no." She made a beeline for the door.

He was faster. He positioned himself in front of her and bared his teeth. "Oh, yes. After two cycles in a pod, I have to clean up before we do anything else, which means you get tied up. Because if I don't, you'll have jacked a shuttle and be halfway back to Pallas Four by the time I'm done, given your history."

His temple mark and eyes turned smoky. "On second thought, you can clean up with me."

"What if I promise not to go anywhere?" It was worth a chance that he'd believe her.

His grin got wider. No chance. "That's the thing Neanderthals. We're not very trusting and we don't know how to compromise."

"I liked it better when you didn't have a memory," she lied, as he turned her and marched her to the small bathing chamber. "There's no room in there, anyway."

"Huh." He stood at the entrance, blocking any escape, and began to remove the clothes he had put on just nans ago. "You may be right, but we Neanderthals can get very creative."

His boots were already off. He unfastened his breeches.

"Why is it your tunic is the first and last piece of-- Oh, never mind," she said in exasperation. "I'm guessing you don't even know what a Neanderthal is."

"My mother's from ancient Earth as well," he pointed out. He bared his lower half and revealed a full, hard erection. "Heard the word, looked it up, know what it means." He yanked off his tunic. "Now you're about to find out."

"Blazing starpits." She rolled her eyes.

"You get that from your mother, don't you?"

"Can we stop talking about our parents?" He had backed her against the cleansing stall. She had nowhere to go. All that hard muscle and smooth skin and pure male was a touch away, yet still she denied herself.

"Now that," he said, and he slapped his hands against the wall on either side of her head, and brought his body up against hers, "is something we can agree on."

Gods, he felt good and she had too many clothes on. She inhaled the warm, male scent of him and nuzzled her cheek against the smooth skin of his chest.

He grunted again. His hand captured her chin and nudged it up. His soft lips slid across her forehead, down her nose and found her mouth. And she was lost. Every last shred of resistance was devoured by the onslaught of emotion that slammed into her with just a glimpse of the expression in his sapphire eyes. His mouth held her captive. His body ed hers. He still hadn't touched her with his hands, and she craved that as much as she regretted her clothed state.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, hooked one leg around his thigh and tried to lift herself higher against his body. A growl rumbled from deep inside his chest. He tore his mouth away, grabbed the bottom of her tunic and tried to yank it off over her head. Made to be form-fitting, it wouldn't clear her breasts.

With another grunt, he abandoned it, leaving the fabric draped over her head. His hands slid down the bare skin of her torso, raising a storm of fiery tingles. His fingers hooked into the waist of her leggings. With two hard jerks, he bared her to her ankles.

He left her feet still shod in slippers and tangled in leggings and separated her thighs as far as they go. Hard hands grasped her bottom. He lifted and impaled her.

It was over in nans. He knew just where to touch her. The restriction of her

clothing frustrated her and excited her. In the end it didn't matter at all as he pounded into her and wrenched a sudden orgasm from her just as he released as well.

His breaths heavy and fast in her ear, he let her slide. His flesh pulled out of her body and he leaned into her, pressing her against the wall as her feet touched the floor.

Her face still obscured by fabric, she murmured an objection. The pressure lifted.

"Now this is an interesting state of affairs." Although she couldn't see, she could tell he'd gone to his knees. He removed her slippers, and slid her leggings off. His hands worked their way up her legs. They found the sensitive area right behind her knees and his touch drew a whimper from her.

Once again, he pushed her legs apart. She would have resisted but he used his hands and forearms to widen her stance. She could have pulled the tunic off her face herself at any time, but the deprivation of her sight made what he was doing easier to accept and infinitely more exciting. She kept her hands at his shoulders, clutching tightly.

His fingers touching her sensitized flesh made her gasp. His thumbs separated the folds and his breath was hot, but his mouth was even hotter as he closed it over the small rise of flesh.

She was too sensitive. She cried out and tried to move away, but he clamped a hand on her bottom. All she could do was ride the fury of his ion out again.

His tongue lashed at her, punished her, soothed her, built up an unbearable brew of pleasure, until she pleaded incoherently with him to stop. She didn't think she could achieve another release, but she was wrong. The combination of his fingers and his mouth sent her over the edge again.

He gave her no time to catch her breath. Pulling the tunic down again, he turned her, searching for the fasteners. The technology was beyond his patience, because he ended up grasping the neck of her clothing and ripping it.

"That was one of my favorites," she objected, as she tried to clamp down on hysterical laughter. She didn't care about the unremarkable beige garment, but she'd never tell him that.

Alerik tossed the garment over his shoulder. "Huh. Borrow one of your mother's."

"What? You don't like my taste in clothing?" She was finally naked and glorying in it.

He shoved her into the tiny cleansing enclosure and pressed in behind her. "I like your mother's better." He hit the control and a deluge of water soaked them both.

"Too gaudy." She sighed as his hands cupped her breasts.

"Then borrow one of my mother's." He grunted as she cupped his heavy balls and rolled them in her fingers.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about our parents anymore."

"You're right. What was I thinking?"

His mouth settled over hers again, and she leaned into him. All was right and as it should be in her world. For this moment, at least.

* * * *

A hand landed heavily on her bare bottom. Maegan's delicious, drowsy state was rudely shattered. She rolled over.

"Stop doing that," she said into Alerik's grinning face. "And leave me alone. I'm tired and sore."

"I can fix that." He began to slide down her body.

"No." She grabbed his hair and pulled.

"Yeouch." Surprisingly, he came back up again. "I'm hungry."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Since you ask..." He made to slide back down again.

She tightened her grip on his hair.

He winced, but stopped. "I checked. There's no food dispenser in here. What kind of enger vessel doesn't have an in-room food dispenser?"

"An older model, chartered with little notice because the council required you on Magnilium. You'll have to go to the mess hall." She yawned and stretched. "Bring me back something."

"I'm the one who was just released from the med clinic. Shouldn't you be catering to my every whim?"

She snuggled the cover around her shoulders. "Don't think so. This was your idea. You made me accompany you. You cheated by not telling me your memory had returned. You just wore me out with all that...ah...exercise. I have no whimcatering desire left in me. You're on your own."

"Huh. That's what I --an uncooperative mate. My memory really is coming back. I also something else." He leaned over her, his face now a serious mask. "A conversation we need to have."

It had been leading up to this all along. Her body responded with an adrenaline rush.

He smoothed back the hair from her face with gentle hands. "Why?" was all he said.

She knew what he asked, and she swallowed and tried to gather thoughts that had seemed so clear once, but were now elusive. "We have such different lives," she blurted. "I'm no good for you or your career. You must know that. It was hard enough when I thought you had feelings for me. When you lost your memory and looked at me with nothing in your eyes, I couldn't face that kind of future."

"You're not a coward, my love. And our lives are not so very different. We work for a goal that is ultimately the same."

"But you follow the dictates of a very rigid Coalition." She tried not to let his unexpected endearment distract her. "I take actions, that are often in direct opposition to the Coalition's mandates, to get results. You put me in lock-up for treason."

He actually smiled. "There is that. Perhaps we should make you as legitimate as Morgon?"

"What?"

"Your uncle is not the rebel you think he is. He's a liberator under the auspices of the Coalition."

"What does that mean?"

"He goes where he wants and does what he needs to do, all in the service of the Coalition, but with direction from no one. He has a powerful, very unique responsibility. When he recruited you, he tried to get you classified in a similar capacity, but the council thought you were too inexperienced. They may have a different view now."

"He's been legitimate all along?" The concept of the Council endorsing covert operations against any one of the nine nations was difficult to grasp. Then again, it was a political body. Why should she be so surprised?

"Yes. He just couldn't tell you or anyone else. Even today, your father and mine don't know what he is."

The implications were enormous. "The council did recognize the Taragon problem," she whispered.

"Partially. Morgon had difficulty gaining collective acceptance. Not everyone was convinced of the extent of the problem and there was no consensus on how to defuse the situation. Some problems can't be dealt with openly. Taragon is a fractured nation. The solution is not clear, nor easy, nor fast."

An image of the sha-priestess standing in her temple, arms lifted in triumph, filled Magean's head. "You'll never be safe as long as Nargune lives."

"There's a universal bounty on her now. She has nowhere to hide. She'll be in custody soon enough. We--"

Maegan gripped his forearms and dug in her nails. He had to understand. "We don't know how close she has to be to attack you as she did on the Pallas Five dock. Was she on the asteroid? Was she anywhere at all in the Belt? Why did she attack at that time? She wanted us to know she's alive. She's up to something, Alerik."

"I know, and we're working on it," he said soothingly. "This attack reversed some of my memory loss. For Morgon as well. She may not have as much control of her powers as she thinks."

"Or it was deliberate. You and Morgon are very important to her." Maegan closed her eyes and forced her thoughts back to the nightmare of the stark white temple with its obscene blood-red mottled columns.

And then she ed.

"Blazing starpits!" She shoved him back and sat up. "She said she had four."

"Four what?"

"Four council . She included you and Morgon. She has two others."

Alerik frowned. "No one's missing."

"There was no one else in that temple, I'm almost certain. They must be current sitting ."

Her mate shook his head. "Hard to believe."

"Why? Why is she choosing council or men close to the council? Power, that's why." She poked him in the chest for emphasis. "You just told me Morgon has a very powerful position. She can get into your minds. What happens when she has you all together in the same place?"

"Cor's blood!" Alerik rolled off the sleeping platform and began to pull on his clothes. "Have to talk with Morgon and Sharm. They're two cycles behind us in another vessel. The council has convened a meeting on Magnilium. You should know your uncle turned down the governorship of The Grogon Asteroid Belt to remain a liberator."

"How do you know all this when you've been in the healing pod?" Frustrated by the feeling she was two steps behind, Maegan swung her legs to the floor and began to dress as well.

"Daily briefings." He was almost dressed. She hurried to catch up for fear he

would leave her behind. "My for going back into the pod."

"Another thing I didn't know," she snapped, and turned her back to grab her tunic from where it somehow had become wrapped around a corner of the sleeping platform. She threw it down again when she saw the rip he had put in it earlier, and hurried to grab another from storage. "Do we have a marriage partnership or a good, old-fashioned, male-dominated Mariltar bonding?"

In a heartbeat, a band of magnasteel clamped around her arm, and Alerik hauled her around and up against his body. His eyes and temple mark had turned a dark sapphire, a sure sign of strong emotion.

"Make no mistake, we have a partnership," he said tightly. "Memories or not, this bond will never be dissolved. I will protect you with my life and love you with every fiber of my being. You will not know everything about me, as I likely will never know everything about you, but we will share all the important things. The briefings were not of significance when I knew I could fill you in. It was more critical for me to know if there was hope after your unilateral decision to end the partnership."

He loved her?

Heat and chills alternately wracked her body. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest. She softened against him. "I don't want to be protected," she said softly. "I want to walk beside you."

"I know." His eyes lightened. "But leave me at least the illusion."

"I don't want to end the marriage partnership either." She reached up to cup his face. "You're stuck with me. There will be times you'll regret it. And I will without a doubt stall your career."

"My career is nothing without my bonded mate," he said, his mouth a breath away from hers. "And I will never regret for one nan my partnership with you." He brushed his lips across the tip of her nose. "Do you think, once in a while, I could be that old-fashioned dominating male?"

She snickered. "Maybe."

He settled his lips over hers, and in that simple, loving, all too-brief lay a thousand promises.

"Let's go commandeer the captain's secure room to Morgon and Sharm. We need a strategy."

Chapter 30

Margaine Confluence Magnilium

Magnilium was a fortress with a magnafield that served as a natural defense and required an experienced pilot vessel to escort visiting vessels through it. The city was built into the natural hollow spires resulting from ancient volcanic activity that pierced thick jungle, filled with odd little creatures.

Maegan stood on the balcony of the habitat unit assigned to her and Alerik and, in the fading light, watched two kitlings squabble with each other in a large fanshaped tree. Their large round ears, as big as their hairless, vermilion bodies, propelled them in short bursts of speed through the canopy.

A warm breeze blew, bringing with it the various scents of cooking, the strong, distinctive perfume of the noliem blossoms that only opened at dusk, and a tangy unidentifiable smell.

She shivered, although she wasn't cold at all. An odd feeling had been bothering her all day. Her nerves were as jittery as a sasscat's. There was no reason for it.

Maybe that was the problem. Life on Magnilium was routine and predictable. The politicians met and debated policy. In her opinion, their mates, a fair number of them at least, spent too much of their time in meaningless, selfish activities.

The Coalition Council was too isolated, too elite, too far removed from the concerns of the nations it supposedly served.

Put the council on Treaine, she had argued with Alerik. Let them see how a true slice of the populations of the nine nations got along together. He disagreed, maintaining the isolation was necessary for clear, unbiased decision-making.

Unbiased! She snorted as she thought about that argument.

The kitlings stopped their squabbling and curled up together in a crook of the tree, their ears overlapping and blanketing them both. Just like Alerik and her. No matter how fiercely they argued, they always ended up in bed.

"Now how..." A rough voice sounded in her ear as a hand landed on her bottom and smoothed over its curve. "...am I supposed to get through the evening, with you looking like this?"

She smiled and pushed back against him. The evening, which was scheduled with one of her least favorite activities, might be salvageable after all. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Came in, cleaned up and am now presentable. Or I was," Alerik added as she rubbed her bottom against his groin.

"We can stay home?"

"Nice try." He leaned over her, forcing her to bend forward, and placed his hands on either side of her on the balcony railing. "But we can't miss this one."

"Are we going to be late then?" she said with feigned politeness. The ultra fine fabric of her evening gown was an illusion of protection against the hard ridge of him pressing against her.

"Mmm." He ran his finger down her naked spine. "No." His hands skimmed down her sides and brushed against the sides of her breasts.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Just checking." He fondled her bottom.

"For what?" She braced her hands beside his on the railing and renewed her wriggling, in hopes of changing the outcome of the evening.

Her strategy earned a gentle slap on the bottom. "Let's get this over with."

If Alerik had been close to succumbing, he was in full control by the time they walked onto the suspended platform that was their dinner venue. The platform was connected by a single archway to one of the hollow spires, and was surrounded on all its other sides by thick vegetation filled with tiny colored lights.

The small group assembled comprised an assortment of politicos: a Merlon, a Liartian, two Bogasills and two Sorons. She quickly realized she was the only mate. "Why do I have to be here?" she muttered.

"Because you were invited."

"Why isn't anyone else's mate here?"

"Behave. You know this is a working meal to discuss Taragon. You have knowledge no one else has."

A soft chime announced another arrival. "He knows as much as I do." Maegan nudged Alerik as Morgon stepped through the archway. "And why is he here? I thought the strategy was to keep you separated?"

"We've had several meetings together. The magnafield enhances the extraordinary security measures in place on Magnilium. The risk is acceptable."

Morgon, on his way across the platform toward them, paused to greet the other guests.

"Until your brains are fried again." Maegan's nerves were doing the jittery dance she so hated. She wanted the evening to be over.

"Calm, my love. There's no threat here with the possible exception of Counselor

Triak. If he ogles your chest again, I may have to do something about it. Come, our hostess is here."

The group was making its way to the floating disks that bore the evening meal. A tall woman, dressed in a dazzling evening gown of amber spisilk stood to the side and greeted each guest.

She seemed familiar, and yet she wasn't. She greeted Maegan with the same welcoming smile she had given the other guests. Only as Maegan looked into her eyes and took note of her bald head beneath a cap of shimmering beads did realization hit her.

Their hostess was from Taragon.

Her nerves went crazy.

"We need to go home," she murmured desperately, as she and Alerik seated themselves. "I don't feel well."

He covered her hand with his large, warm one and put his head close to hers. "You're profiling, Maegan. She's a counselor and has been since the council was formed. She's one of the strongest advocates for reform on Taragon."

"There's something wrong here."

"It's just a working meal. It will be over soon enough."

Their hostess began with an introductory summary of the issues they were debating. Maegan listened with half an ear and tried to get Morgon's attention. The food in front of her had no appeal. She didn't think her stomach would hold it down, but when Alerik nudged her, she forced herself to put a small slice of tamboreen fruit in her mouth.

The debate began. Morgon and Alerik were quickly immersed in the discussion and Morgon still hadn't picked up on her silent signals.

The evening wore on and her nerves calmed. Alerik was right. There was no threat here. Even Counselor Triak had stopped looking at her chest as the discussion drew his attention.

Maegan reached for another of the small, delicious canna cakes and froze as a peculiar light-headedness seized her. The platform fell abruptly silent.

With great effort, she lifted her head to study the group. Everyone, including their hostess, seemed frozen in place. Mouths hung open; hands were stilled in mid-gesture or in the process of lifting food. Time had simply stopped. A ninth dimension vid game was less bizarre.

She turned to Alerik.

His eyes held a terrible awareness. His gaze flicked beyond her.

She sensed movement, a displacement of air with no sound.

She turned. The movement seemed to take forever.

"Maegan." The voice haunted her darkest nightmares. "You always were able to resist me when no one else could. I wish I could understand why, but there is no time."

A woman sauntered toward their Taragon hostess and paused at her side. Their dress was identical. The shapes of the bald heads were a perfect match. The facial features were the same, set apart only by the stamp of time on the older woman. Their relationship was unmistakable.

Everything and everyone else around Maegan faded into unimportance. Her entire being became intently focused on mother and daughter. Here was the reason for all her doubts, her jittery nerves, the foreboding that had stalked her to this time, this place. Odd, she felt no fear now, not even an adrenalin rush, just an eerily calm waiting watchfulness.

"Mother." Nargune touched the hostess's shoulder. "Thank you for arranging this convenient gathering. I have everyone I need. You will see my best work here."

Nargune had somehow immobilized the group, but her drug of choice had allowed everyone to retain a full awareness. The utter terror etched on the face of the older Taragon woman couldn't have been contrived. Her body strained and trembled as if with great effort. She rolled her gaze at her daughter, fear and

frantic pleading in her expression.

Beyond the greeting and single touch to her mother's shoulder, Nargune ignored her. She focused her full attention on Maegan. The smile that crossed her face threaten to paralyze Maegan with terrible, destructive memories. She fought desperately to hold them at bay.

"But first...Maegan Shale, lifemate to Alerik Mariltar," the sha-priestess said, "you must die. You are a barrier between me and the power of the Mariltar men. Once I believed I could capitalize on the extraordinary link between you and your mate, but time is running out. It is simpler to destroy you."

Maegan struggled to follow Nargune's conversational tone. Lethargy claimed her limbs and numbed her mind. Had her life been threatened? She couldn't seem to care.

Nargune strode toward her. In her hand, she carried a thin Taragon pikesword. The blade, reflecting the sea of lights in the jungle surrounding them, glittered with a multitude of colors. Pretty. Elegant. Deadly.

Death by stabbing then. Maegan wondered how much it would hurt.

Nargune slowed as she ed Alerik. With her peripheral vision, Maegan saw her run her hand over Alerik's head and down his back.

"Such a magnificent man," she murmured. "Our children will be extraordinary."

Fire sizzled through Maegan's nerves. She exploded out of her seat.

Taken by surprise, Nargune fell back, but even as she fell, she slashed the pikesword upwards.

Maegan spun away, but was a nanonan too late. The ice-cold blade sliced into her side. Pain seared through her body. Too much pain. She stumbled.

With a blood-curdling scream, Nargune pulled back the sword, ready to strike again.

The academy had trained Maegan to fight as an elite warrior, but Morgon had taught his niece to fight dirty. She drew back her foot and delivered a vicious kick to Nargune's knee.

The sha-priestess staggered back but didn't go down. With a shriek of rage, she drove herself forward again, the glittering blade lifted for another strike.

Maegan blocked the next stroke of the sword, but tripped as her long gown tangled around her legs. She wasn't fast enough with her block. The blade nicked her arm. Pain, far more intense than should have been possible from such a small cut, crashed through her body. Gritting her teeth, she attacked, driving Nargune back with a flurry of punches and kicks. She had little time before blood loss weakened her, probably even less before the poison from the blade shut her body down.

The sword sliced at her again and caught her, this time, on the thigh. More excruciating pain. She almost fell.

Nargune lunged at her. With a double-handed grip, she swept the sword around from the side.

This time, Maegan barely managed to dodge its strong, lethal arc. She pivoted and put all her energy into a round kick, hoping to drive Nargune back to give herself some space.

Her foot connected with Nargune's belly. The sha-priestess flew backwards. She bounced against the meager barrier at the edge of the platform, and made a desperate grab for the thin rail. She slipped, missed, and went crashing through the jungle screen with a shriek. Her long, piercing wail was abruptly silenced a nanonan later.

Exhausted, pain ripping through her body, Maegan collapsed. As her vision dimmed, she saw the pikesword hurtling straight at her.

Chapter 31

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising Pallas Five

Maegan wriggled her toes into the soft caress of the spongy ground. Her whole body was bare and cradled in the comforting hold of The Lichs.

Alerik's face appeared above her. His eyes were a clear sapphire for the first time today, unclouded by worry over her.

"Legend has it," he murmured, and tickled her nose with a tiny clinging vine, "The Lichs have extraordinary healing powers."

"I'm already healed," she pointed out. Nargune's last desperate toss had missed her as she'd sunk unconscious to the platform floor, but the wound in her side was deep and tainted by poison, and had taken its time to heal. By the time the clinic had released her, she was ready to commit mayhem on her entire fussing family.

"I'm not," he said. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me to sit powerless and listen to that fight? I couldn't see most of it. I could only imagine what she was doing to you. I aged rotations that night."

"She wanted children with you," Maegan ed. "That made me really angry."

There was something else too. Something that teased at the edge of her memory.

Nargune's death had been confirmed. She was no longer a threat. Why then, did this sense of unease still beset her at odd moments?

"There must be something about the Earth gene," Alerik mused. "When my mother was taken by a Soron priest years ago, he couldn't completely control her either."

"That's it!" Maegan shot up, forcing Alerik back on his elbow.

"That's what?"

"Fires of Crillac!" Her heart was racing.

"Breathe, my love."

Alerik's hand on the back of her neck calmed her. She gulped in several deep breaths.

"Her father took your mother."

Alerik stilled. "What?"

"That's what she said in the temple. Her father took your mother."

"Blood of Cor." Alerik's voice was hoarse. "An alliance of Taragon and Soron priests? If ever there was an unholy union, that's it."

"What if there are more?"

"Intelligence reports things are calm for now. There is no activity on The Divide. The temples on Taragon have been inspected. As soon as we return, I'll report this to the Coalition Council. We'll have to look at everything with new eyes. In all its history, Taragon has never held an alliance."

Maegan lay back as the ground reached up to embrace her again. Soothing strokes undulated along her back. "What if the nationality is immaterial? How many of the nine nations claim clans of priests?"

"A good question and one that I can't answer. There's much secrecy that surrounds some of these sects. Too much."

He leaned over her again. "We can't solve the problems of the galaxy here and now, my love. We can only solve our own."

"We have problems? Alerik?" Maegan reached up and smoothed her hand down his face. "Why are we back on Pallas Five?"

His eyes turned smoky and he turned his head to kiss her fingers. "The Grogon Asteroid Belt needed a governor. Morgon refused it."

"There are others who qualify."

"Yes, but I like it here. I have a mandate to continue my council committee work, and can do it here just as well as on Magnilium."

He dropped a light kiss on her lips. "It's a good place to raise a family."

"The miniature Alerik project?" The rhythms of her body responded with a surge of excitement. The timing felt right.

"I'm ready. Are you?"

"What if we get a miniature Maegan?"

"Great Sagar be merciful to us all."

He moved over her.

About the Author

J. A. Clarke grew up in Africa where weekly trips to the library were the main entertainment event of the week. Although she's traveled on four continents and loves learning about other cultures, she is now firmly grounded in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. With her husband, two sons and dog pack in tow, she enjoys exploring the fabulous scenic treasures of the area. Someday, it is her fond hope, she will take her family on a grand adventure in Africa.

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