EPILOGUE

 

 

“There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun.
“It's been the ruin of many a poor girl,
and me, O God, for one.

 

“If I had listened what Mamma said,
I'd 'a' been at home today.
“Being so young and foolish…
let a rambler lead me astray.

 

“Go tell my baby sister
never do like I have done
“to shun that house in
New Orleans
they call the Rising Sun.”

 

                                  - Turner and Martin

 

 

Luciano Mantovanni emerged from the sonic shower, vaguely surprised: Having experienced his lover's lustiness and enthusiasm firsthand for four days, he'd anticipated a delightful rendezvous when Parihn joined him therein.

Mantovanni chuckled inwardly.

Now who's oversexed? he chided himself. Even she must be exhausted by now.

Then, again…

Despite the questionable thoughtfulness involved in waking the woman he loved after the... energy intensive evening they'd just spent, he strolled into the bedroom with every intention of doing so.

She was already awake.

He approved of her choice in morning attire: Parihn was dressed only in a uniform top, standing before the desk with her back to him. His eyes were drawn at first to her ripe, well-rounded bottom...

...but only at first.

She was shaking, head hung, shoulders slumped, and for a moment, Mantovanni thought it was with laughter.

It was a brief moment, indeed.

Without a word, she turned and hurled herself into his arms, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

“What is it?” he asked. Parihn seemed as upset now as she'd been in the moment before they'd declared their love—if not more so.

He considered a dozen possibilities, each more terrible than the last... and all of which left him chilled and heartsick.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t anything he'd imagined, and thus struck more painfully.

Parihn hiccoughed half-words and shuddered, almost convulsing in her anguish and pain.

“No... no... not like this… no...!”

What in God's name…? he thought.

Gently, Mantovanni moved his lover so he could play back the missive, cradling Parihn in a single arm even as she clutched at him harder, her crying unabated.

It was a recorded message from Admiral Nalonge, received some hours before: No doubt Erika Donaldson had considerately deflected any incoming communiqués so they could have their privacy, and Parihn had simply been checking mail.

Nalonge looked haunted... and Mantovanni suddenly knew with dread certainty what he was about to hear.

“Lieutenant, Captain... there's no easy way to say this.

“We found Ensign Anari... Aedra... this morning.

The man he'd known only by reputation as a cynical, hardened intelligence op actually glanced away from the screen as he finished.

“She'd taken her own life… some sort of ritual suicide, they tell me.

“Someone…” and the admiral’s tone left Mantovanni with no doubt Nalonge had surmised exactly who, and had known they would, too, “…sent her a message mentioning that the video she was forced to make had been released onto various use-nets and public forums throughout the Federation.

“And I can unfortunately confirm that it has been.

“As far as we can determine through forensics and computer records, she was so distraught at the revelation that she went online looking for it herself… and found it pretty readily.”

Nalonge was shaking with fury and upset.

“The damned thing was running in the background when they found her.”

Mantovanni switched the comm off.

The man had already said more than enough.

For long moments, he simply held Parihn as she wept. Gradually, though, she managed to settle herself, at least in part, before pulling back to look at him, tear-stained and grief-stricken.

“I thought she'd be all right now.

“It wasn’t her fault that Ran did that!”

For a moment, Parihn grew angry, indignant, lashing out at the woman for whose life she’d sacrificed and struggled the last month to save.

“She just gave up! Why did she do that?

“I threw away my honor, my self-respect...” her eyes again filled with tears as she looked at him, “...I hurt you...

“...and I did it for nothing!”

 What composure she'd regained slipped away, and once more Parihn began to cry.

“This h–happened last night… while we were m–making love, she was... she was...”

Mantovanni drew her back to him, and gave what shelter and comfort there was to be had.

Of course, it wasn't nearly enough. He hadn't before understood the phrase “wept until her heart almost burst.”

Now, he did—all too well.

Never had Mantovanni felt so helpless, understanding that despite his presence and embrace—despite anything he might say or do—that the woman he loved felt, during one of the worst moments in her life, absolutely alone.

In a way, once again, she was.

But he held her, anyway, because it was all he could do.

It was callous and selfish, but Luciano Mantovanni felt less for Aedra than perhaps he should.

Her pain, at least, had ceased.

Parihn’s, he knew, might never end.

 

***

 

The combination of grief, stress, and weeks of constant emotional and physical exertion had finally taken their toll: Parihn lay on the bed, having slumped into a deep, exhausted sleep an hour before.

From behind the desk where he sat, Mantovanni, for long moments, watched her regular breathing with what was, for him, a peculiar, almost wistful, expression. Then, he arose and moved to the bedside, there to place a gentle kiss on her brow.

She didn’t even stir.

No nightmares, little one. I’m here.

Then, he withdrew to the next room… and played back the second message he’d received—the one that had arrived, thank God, mere moments after Parihn had nodded off.

It wasn’t hard to guess the man’s identity: New face; new voice… same cadence and cruel undercurrent.

If a stiletto could speak, it would sound like Ran Imaldris.

“I thought we had Starfleet Intelligence well marked, but they’ve proven me wrong. I’ll have to take steps that will ensure our security is henceforth more difficult to breach.”

The Orion’s irritation was unmistakable, and Mantovanni wondered if allowing it to seep through into his speech was unintentional, or actually a perverse form of salute to his adversaries.

“No matter; on to more personal business.

“Our agreement, as you have no doubt realized, is now in abeyance. Not only did Parihn interfere in our affairs a second time, you helped her. Not a very honorable thing to do, Captain, when you’ve given your word otherwise. I expected better from you.”

Now Imaldris’ tone changed, becoming almost, to Mantovanni’s amazement, conciliatory.

“I’ve been told, however, that perhaps, I too, was at fault, here, for sending a copy of… er… Aedra’s Amorous Adventures… directly to Parihn—goading her, as it were. That wasn’t exactly in the spirit of my agreement not to… how shall I say? molest?… her, since emotional pain is a form of harm, and I did consent to leave her be.

“Now I’m a big enough man to admit when I’m wrong, Captain… and I offer you the reinstitution of our previous covenant.”

His voice hardened into brittle warning…

“Keep her out of our way, and both of you stay alive. ”

…then returned to companionability.

“I hope you appreciate the magnanimosity of this gesture, Cicero… may I call you Cicero? But the circumstances are unique, after all, and I’m nothing if not adaptable.

“If you would, give Parihn a message for me, will you? Tell her we’re holding the room—you know which one I mean—until she’s ready for it again. I still have hopes of seeing Shomira… dance… again, someday. Can you blame me? The way she works that little shavan of hers, especially when it’s full of my…

“But then, you know all about that, don’t you?”

Mantovanni knew that such impotent mean-spiritedness shouldn’t bother him… but despite that, it was difficult to hear her spoken of in that manner.

And Imaldris wasn’t quite done, either.

“Sorry to hear about Aedra, by the way.

“Believe it or not, I had no real desire to see the girl harmed, or do herself violence.”

The fact that he actually sounded sincere was doubly infuriating.

Then his true colors bled through again.

“To be honest, I was rather hoping she might remember how happy she was with us, and make the effort to return on her own.

“But if the choices were ‘free to defy us,’ or ‘dead,’ well…

“…things worked out for the best.”

The screen went black.

Unbelievable. After all this…

“…status quo ante bellum.”

Luciano Mantovanni devoted the next few minutes of his life to an internal debate the subject of which, on reflection, probably wouldn't have surprised anyone who knew him well.

Who do I want to kill more? Jerrell Gav’reme…

…or Ran Imaldris?

He thought about the harm both men had done to the woman he loved, and made his decision.

Why limit myself?

 

Hours later, he again sat next to Parihn, watching her sleep, untroubled at least for a time… and thought about the pain he’d cause by telling her what he had done, the threats he’d made long ago to preserve her life—as well as revealing Ran Imaldris’ last cruel riposte.

Almost, he decided to bury them both, to retain his secrets and say nothing.

But when, just then, she opened her eyes and sleepily asked, “What is it?” he knew—knew as if God Himself had whispered it in his ear—that their fate was to always share the bitter as well as the sweet.

And if that’s the price for our love…

…then we’ll both pay it.

He told her…

…he held her…

…and together, they made it all right.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Eight   Afterword