CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Well, that's a strange way to tell me
you love me,
when your sorrow is all
I can see…
“If you just want to cry
to somebody,
don’t cry to me… don't
cry to me.”
- Rick Roberts
M'Raav Hatshepsut had spent a trying
three days.
Trying, but understandable, she
thought.
For the first 72 hours, Aedra hadn't
wanted to be left alone—at least not with anyone other than Parihn. Add to it
the fact that, paradoxically, she hadn't wanted to see anyone she didn't already know, and the older Orion had spent
almost every moment since their escape with the traumatized girl.
Thank goodness Adventurous' CMO is a grandfatherly, almost
helpless-looking old man… or I don't think she could have borne even his presence.
Eventually, of course, Aedra’s thoughts
had turned to seeing her fiancé… and she’d been terrified at that prospect, as well.
When he'd unexpectedly arrived, ferried
to Adventurous by his considerate and
concerned captain, and demanded to immediately see her, the Felisian had been
doubtful about the appropriateness of an unsupervised meeting… but they'd both
been so insistent she'd relented.
M’Raav now knew she should have just
trusted her instincts.
The reunion had lasted perhaps two
minutes. It had left Aedra in tears, and Daros stiff-lipped and rigid as he’d
stormed out of the private room and past them without a word.
She and Parihn had first made certain
Aedra was all right, left her in the now-comforting presence of Dr. Conroy, and
then set out after the young Elaasian.
They caught him easily enough. He was
standing in the observation lounge, arms folded, expression almost murderous.
“What did you say to her, Commander?” Hatshepsut asked.
He didn't even spare her a glance.
“What passed between us is between us, Counselor… and I'll thank
you to mind your own business.”
Her companion's temper, however, had
already frayed… and snapped.
As the Felisian drew breath for a
carefully considered reply, Parihn interceded before she could speak.
“Shut up, Hatshepsut!”
She meowed in surprised affront, but
complied.
The Orion then rounded back on Daros,
giving free rein to her anger and indignation.
“I don’t know exactly what you said, but… you berated
her, didn't you? When she needed unconditional love and understanding from you,
instead you blamed her for what she
was forced to do. I can see it in your face, you…” The normally eloquent Parihn
hesitated, struggling for a word, then settled on, “…you male.”
She'd actually managed to make the
delineation of gender sound like a curse.
“What exactly did you expect from her? Of course she liked it. She's been bred to like it! News flash, Daros: If they'd caught me, I'd
have probably liked it, too. And if you can't deal with the fact that she's
been violated in the worst way a woman like Aedra can be, then it's you who
doesn't deserve her.
“Do you think this is something that could only happen to one of us? If you were suddenly pumped so full of
pheromones, hormones and endorphins that your rationality began to desert you,
and then surrounded by attractive, or even not
so attractive, women, you'd happily fuck
them, too.
“Wait a minute… what am I
saying? You're a man; you don't need
that sort of stimulus to stick it in any
available hole.
“You've all been doing that since the beginning of
time!”
Furious and red-faced, Daros turned and
literally stomped from the room.
After he'd gone, M'Raav gently purred,
“It's my professional opinion that that
may not have been the way to go.”
How dare that little whore judge
me—even speak to me!
The part of him that was still thinking clearly, however,
responded, And to which little whore are you referring?
Despite the clear attempt to bait him, and the obvious extenuating
circumstances, Daros suddenly realized what had been especially bothering him the entire time… what had overwhelmed him
when he'd seen the woman he loved—and, Sky-Lords help him, he did still love her—again: He knew that
the regimen of drugs his fiancée had once undergone, and continued to employ,
had granted her a definite control over many of her urges. He also understood
Parihn was right—that Aedra, in her natural state, was very much a creature of
passion, driven by bio-sexual imperatives that he couldn't even begin to
comprehend… and, if deprived of those chemicals and exposed to sufficiently
compelling erotic stimuli, she simply wouldn't
be able to restrain herself for long, no matter how she tried.
He could understand, and even attempt to forgive, such things as
Aedra had done. Terrible though they seemed to him, she had not sought to do them. She’d been broken,
and forced.
But despite all that, the Elaasian couldn't shake the fact that Aedra had seemed so enthusiastic… so… fulfilled… when she'd never seemed that way with him.
And that was something
Daros didn’t know if he could bear.
***
Even though she knew things had
fundamentally changed between them, Vaerth Parihn found herself drawn to where
she'd always gone when, over the last four years, she'd been troubled... or
angry… or simply seeking a place to be.
This time, it was all three.
“Come.”
She glanced at what he was reading:
Moorcock's Elric of Melinboné.
Ugh… depressing fantasy.
As I recall, he was fond of turning women into monsters, too.
“How are you?” he asked, placing the volume
on the nearby end table. He was disrespectful to books, simply putting whatever
he was reading face down, and often cracking the spine—a habit he knew made her
crazy, but that he’d never managed, or even attempted, to break.
Now, though, was not the time to scold
him for it.
Parihn was exhausted, but tried to keep
that from her voice.
“I’ve spent the last two days with an
intermittently hysterical girl who has good reason for her hysteria.
“Aedra doesn’t want to sleep,
“She’s afraid she’ll wake up back
there.”
What she'd left unsaid, but what Parihn
had known without it being spoken, was, And
she’s doubly afraid she won’t mind.
“Then her fiance showed up a few hours
ago and made everything worse. I lost my cool, and said some things to him I
shouldn't have—not that they aren’t true.”
She lapsed into silence.
Mantovanni, at first, added nothing
more.
Their friendship had always been easy
and natural, transcending rank and protocol—at least when they were alone. But
now, the quiet they’d always found so comforting had become awkward and
strained.
It was distressing.
Uncharacteristically, he offered the
first thought that occurred to him.
“It must be hard on Daros, though. I
wonder if he'll be able to cope.”
Luciano Mantovanni didn't immediately
know it, but he'd definitely said the wrong thing.
“With what does he really have to cope?” Parihn asked, rather coldly. “Nothing
insurmountable, from where I’m
sitting: We've retrieved Aedra, and, according to Hatshepsut and Dr. Conroy,
she'll make a complete physical… and, probably, with a great deal of help,
psychological recovery.
“Things can only get better for them,
if he's willing to try.”
The Sicilian grimaced, and shook his
head.
“It's not that simple, Parihn; Daros is
an Elaasian,” Mantovanni reminded
her. “They're extremely conservative,
almost repressed, sexually speaking. He saw her with other men… and he saw her
ecstatic about it—practically wallowing
in it. Now obviously none of this was her fault, but… no matter the circumstances,
such will weigh on a man like that.”
The Orion woman said nothing, but it
was obvious to Mantovanni he'd upset her greatly.
“Parihn?”
“Interesting choice of words,
Suddenly, he saw what was coming—at
about warp nine-point-nine.
“You know… I don’t think this is a
discussion we should be having right now,” Mantovanni carefully asserted.
His friend and one-time lover, though,
wasn't prepared to drop it.
“Why not?” Parihn pressed. “Are you having a little trouble coping?”
His voice took on a preternatural calm.
“I'm not the one whose woman was so
abused,” he told her.
Now Parihn laughed… and it was a bitter
sound.
“If I was ever your woman—for a night,
even for a moment… oh, yes, you are,”
she reminded him cuttingly. “I saw parts of that video… as a matter of fact, I
made sure I suffered through it all.
“I empathized.
“You might even say I relived it.
“It was bad, Cicero; I wouldn't wish
what happened to her on anyone, and I'll do anything I can to help—even more
than what I've already done, if I had to
do it.”
She let that hover between them for a
moment, then continued.
“But you know what? Her misadventures
don't even register on my humiliation scale. Aedra, before
gaining her freedom five years ago, and other than those horrible two weeks,
was the chosen concubine of a man who treated her like gold-pressed latinum.
She was cloistered, pampered, and used only with great restraint and reverence
by him and a mere handful of others. She was precious to him—a precious possession, yes, but still valued… and
even, dare I say it, loved. If it had been legal, that old merchant prince
probably would have freed and married her.
“Not my master. He wasn't nearly as wealthy as hers—so while he
occasionally took me for his own pathetic little pleasures, he understood my
value as a… commodity…
“…and he used me."
It wasn't something she often dwelt
upon, but now there was no avoiding it.
“I was used.
“Oh, how I was used. I occasionally did things that would earn me execution on some more reactionary
planets—like Elaas.”
Her tone hadn't changed much at all,
but something made Mantovanni look up at her.
She was crying, but wouldn't
acknowledge it: Tears were streaming down her face, and she refused to sob, or
even brush them away.
“Are you sure, Cicero, you can still handle being friends with me—maybe
even, eventually, being more that
that with me, again, despite what I
did a week ago… knowing that I've been had in that way by a substantial number of men—that I've danced, and… otherwise performed… from the Grand Nagus' chambers on Ferenginar to the room
we rescued Aedra from only 40 hours ago?”
Mantovanni's face was like stone.
“Are you trying to hurt me, Parihn? I'm not sure what I've done to deserve
this from you.”
“What exactly have I said that's so wrong?” she countered. “I'm merely relating some
highlights from my illustrious
career. You've said time and again that you want to know about my life. Well… here's your chance. I'll tell you
anything you want to know.
“Come on! You've got a good
imagination. Speak up.”
Parihn knew she was wounding him
further with every word. She could feel
it, and still, couldn't bring herself to stop.
Then, she struck a blow that especially
staggered.
“All right… I'll give you a free one…
and you know how rare that is, from
someone like me.
“I spent a night with General Aerus,
once. I was in my… guise… as Shomira
the Sabine, a gift after one of his triumphal processions.”
Relentlessly, brutally, she continued,
“Would you like to know how much I liked it?.… how many times we did it, and in
what positions?… whether he has any intriguing little preferences or quirks?
“Whether he's 'larger than life'?!”
Though she'd been looking at Mantovanni
the whole time she'd spoken, it was only then that she really saw him once more… and, in a horrified
instant, regretted everything she'd
said.
He was literally pale.
“Get out.”
“I…”
He cut her off, enunciating with
perilous clarity a threat that chilled her.
“Get out… now.
“Before I say something I'll regret.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven Interlude Six