Part 9 (2/2)

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed. ”It does not.”

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

He was silent.

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

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

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

”Really?” Madeline was impressed.

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

Madeline smiled at her. ”I drive him nuts on the s.h.i.+p,” she pointed out.

”Nuts?”

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

Sfilla shook her head. ”A female on a wars.h.i.+p. It is a strange concept.”

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

”That is sad,” Sfilla said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her heart jumped. ”But you said...!”

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

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

”Yes,” he said aloud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<script>