Chapter Six
“What a night,” Mitag enthused. Detodev followed him into his apartment after Ilid had dropped them off. “Can you believe we were so lucky to meet a pair like them? Beautiful woman and a single, professional Dramok?”
“Planning your clanning ceremony, Mitag? You should find yourself the right Nobek too, if that’s the case.”
Maybe I have. The problem was, Detodev didn’t agree.
Mitag looked the big Nobek over as Detodev conscientiously pulled his boots off and left them by the front door next to Mitag’s. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on those boots. Experience had taught Mitag they were the pair he saved for going out after work. Fieldworkers were used to taking their shoes off so as not to track in dirt. Habit or not, Mitag was convinced that deep down, Detodev was thoughtful.
His companion was a tough nut to crack, however…impossible, thus far. Another Imdiko probably would have given up on the stolid Nobek who usually kept his distance. Mitag would have too, under normal circumstances.
He knew Detodev had no contact with his family. He didn’t know why. His friend…damn it, Detodev was his friend despite the Nobek’s attempts to prove otherwise…had formed a familial attachment to Clan Amgar. Thanks to being remanded to their care when he’d gotten in whatever trouble had landed him on Haven, he had their support. Nonetheless, they couldn’t properly be called his family.
Like Mitag, he was alone. Mitag was convinced Detodev was as despondent about his isolation as he was.
Both of us are orphans, in some fashion. He needs a confidante. I need a confidante. Why doesn’t he see it?
Detodev was already looking at his boots in the entryway, no doubt reconsidering whether he should stay. Mitag hurried to the small bar area in the corner of the room, refusing to give him the chance to change his mind.
“Bohut, whiskey, or kloq? Turn on the vid while you’re at it, see if there are any fights or shuttle races on.”
To his relief, Detodev turned toward the entertainment system. “I’d better switch to kloq. I do have to work in the morning.”
Mitag beamed as he put a few bottles in the warmer. By the time Detodev left, maybe he’d be tired enough to drop straight to sleep. And maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with any nightmares.
* * * *
To Ilid’s chagrin, his mother and Dramok father had waited up for him in the rented house’s kitchen. He did his best to answer Diju’s questions about his night on the town offhandedly, but she seized on the companions he’d ended up among and had flown home.
“They must have been very interesting men for you and Jennifer to have stayed out so late. A Nobek and an Imdiko?” Diju all but danced in her delight on the white tile floor amongst the gleaming appliances and a small, cozy table in the middle of the spacious room. “Close to your age, no less.”
“Jennifer had better rapport than I did when it came to Mitag. They’re both interested in clothes and parties. Detodev came off as barely sociable. He barely spoke two words at a time to any of us.”
“Oh, what else would you expect from a Nobek? They prefer their actions to speak for them. If he stuck close, he’s interested.”
“It was a random encounter at the bar. He and Jennifer had become acquainted on the farm. He works for Clan Amgar. For all I know, we won’t run across either him or Mitag again soon.”
“You didn’t exchange com frequencies?” At last, disappointment showed up.
As much as he hated to burst his mother’s bubble, it was for the best. Ilid avoided telling her Mitag had his contact information. “I hardly thought a first meeting involving a number of drinks warranted it.”
“Well, what does? Plenty of clannings have occurred after a few drinks.”
“To everyone’s great regret,” Ilid groaned.
“Diju,” Codab said quietly from the wooden chair he occupied. He sat at the matching table. “He hasn’t reached legal age to clan unless we give permission. There are plenty of future Nobek clanmates and maybe even Imdikos for him to meet here. Let him look around.”
“I wasn’t offered the option, nor was I of age to choose to clan,” she returned, glaring at him. “I was nineteen. You were barely twenty-five. It was an arranged clanning.”
“Times have changed. The traditional clan of four isn’t a guarantee any longer, no more than arranged clanships. Ilid deserves the opportunity to forge his own path.” Codab smiled at her, his gaze soft. Arranged or not, their relationship was full of love. Dramok Codab had no problem displaying it.
She continued to scowl, but the heat lessened in the face of his adoring regard. “I want the best for my son. You have to admit, the support of a protector and caregiver can’t be underestimated.”
“I have no complaints. However, Ilid isn’t me. Or you.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to their child. “At least grant them a chance if they make an effort to see you again. They might be perfect for you.”
“All right. If we cross paths, I’ll see if they’re interested in a real outing, where drinking isn’t the main event of the night.” Ilid smiled. Her love was a beacon of warmth in a cold universe. While her meddling wasn’t entirely welcome, he basked in the caring behind it.
“Excellent. I’m going to bed. Codab?”
“In a moment.”
Diju paused long enough to shoot him a suspicious glance. She turned to her son and cupped her palm around Ilid’s cheek. She left them, murmuring good night. They listened to her go up the softly creaking stairs.
As soon as her footfalls quieted, Codab stood and looked at Ilid. The younger man’s heart sank.
Sure enough, his father had read through his attempts to downplay the night. “Were you truly unimpressed by this Detodev and Mitag, or is it a matter of what happened to you?”
Ilid knew he had no choice but to confess. “I don’t want a clan. Or at least, I don’t deserve one. I have no right to play the part of a Dramok to fellow Kalquorians.”
“You do fine when it comes to Jennifer.”
“She’s an Earther. She doesn’t have the expectations our people do of a clan leader. I may fall short of what she wants, but it won’t be because I don’t fit a particular definition.” He looked away, unable to meet the gaze of Codab, a true Dramok.
“Ilid, you were strong when you had to be. You survived what no one else on your ship could. If yours isn’t the heart of a Dramok, then I have no idea what is.” His father’s voice was intense, as if he could etch the words on Ilid’s brain through sheer force.
“I fell apart on Kalquor. I tried to kill myself so you and the rest of my parents wouldn’t have to watch me scream and cry like a child! Now I’m hiding on Haven. How does any of it equate to the heart of a Dramok?” Ilid rubbed shaking hands over his face. “In the bar, I couldn’t stop looking for those damned Darks, though I’m certain they haven’t made it onto the planet. My mind insisted they were in every shadow. Detodev noticed, unsurprisingly. How could a Nobek miss my fear?”
“You were tortured by those things, my son. No man would escape such a situation and be unaffected for months or years afterward.”
“Or a lifetime. I can’t see a future where I’m unafraid.” His head bowed in shame.
Codab gripped his shoulder and squeezed, as if he could infuse his son with his own strength and make him the man he might never be. “The trauma is still fresh. You have to give yourself the opportunity to heal.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.” Codab’s tone held a certainty Ilid didn’t share. “For the present, Diju means well, but don’t let her worrying rush you into clanship. As I said, you’re young. It’s early for you to be thinking about finding clanmates.”
“Mother doesn’t think so. She hasn’t heard the first real detail where Mitag and Detodev are concerned, and she already wants me to clan them and Jennifer.” As Ilid spoke, a jab of regret shot through his chest. The pain surprised him into thinking about such a scenario seriously.
It only lasted a moment. No, he didn’t know the two men he’d met at the bar well enough to consider such a future. What hurt was realizing he probably had no chance of clanning anyone, no matter how perfect.
Diju would have been enthralled to realize Ilid had always considered the ultimate relationship to include a full clan. He’d wanted what his parents had: full commitment and regard and support for each other. They belonged to an era in which clanship was forever, and they’d committed to their arranged relationship fully. The old Ilid hadn’t been able to conceive of anything less than what they’d forged.
That had been before his capture by the Darks. Before his ability to function as a Dramok had been shattered by terror and helplessness.
“Your mother doesn’t necessarily wish you to clan tomorrow. She wants reassurance that if and when we leave you on Haven, you’ll have the support of people who care for you,” Codab said.
“I can bake and hire help fine without lifelong companions.” Ilid managed a wry chuckle.
“You aren’t here merely to run a bakery and recover from what happened. You’re here to build a network of those you can count on when you need help in any area of your life. I’m talking about living , my son. Really living. It’s time to move on from merely existing in the wake of what happened.”
“I wonder if I can.” He’d thought he was doing better. His constant search for living shadows in the bar that night, however…
“Making friends is part of it. Jennifer is a good start. Perhaps Mitag and Detodev will be men you can turn to for support, whether as eventual clanmates or not.”
Codab made sense. Ilid was able to nod and agree with what he said. Friends would be wonderful. Perhaps Mitag and Detodev could fit as such.
But never clanmates. Ilid wasn’t Dramok enough for them, or any Kalquorians.
* * * *
Mitag lay in bed, wide awake. Despite the late hour, he couldn’t settle into slumber. He couldn’t calm the excitement keeping his brain avid long after he should had dropped off.
Detodev, Ilid, Jennifer. Plus Mitag.
Nobek, Dramok, Matara, and Imdiko.
An excellent setup for a traditional clan. It was everything he wished for. Perfect, should the four of them prove compatible for a lifetime of companionship.
If only Detodev weren’t so stubbornly distant. For that matter, Ilid too. He showed signs of being nearly as bad. The Dramok’s was a warmer personality, and he was considerate to a fault. However, replaying the evening, Mitag realized Ilid had shared little of his past. Or himself.
What had Mitag learned of him? Ilid was claustrophobic and wanted to run a bakery on his parents’ behalf. All other questions had been deflected. The Dramok had managed conversation so well, Mitag hadn’t picked up on his full reticence until he’d thought it over.
Mitag had long wondered why Detodev resisted most attempts for closeness. It wasn’t only the Imdiko he fended off. Detodev was a solitary beast, except when sheer loneliness brought him to Mitag’s side, as it had at the bar.
Now Ilid. What had happened to make the two men so aloof? Or were they secretive? If so, what could they be hiding?
Maybe Jennifer’s heard the story on Ilid. He dotes on her. I wonder if he’s confided his past to her. She’s met his parents. She has to know the backstory.
She was an open book, at least. She’d laughed at the college prank responsible for bringing her to Haven, though she expressed regret for injuring her professor. She’d shared her positive impression of Clan Amgar and her decidedly less complimentary assessment of Haven. Which could be a problem where Mitag’ hopes were concerned. He and Detodev were firmly established in Sunrise. Ilid looked likely to stick around too.
If Ilid were to stay, if more than mere acquaintanceship could be sparked between the four, would Jennifer reconsider returning to the planet once she finished her interrupted studies? Mitag had the feeling to make such a scenario happen, Detodev and Ilid would have to crawl from behind their barricades. They’d have to open up.
It wasn’t as if they had real reasons to hide their pasts. At least, not reasons as profound as Mitag’s. For the chance at the family he’d never had, he was willing to share his past horrors. If the compelling people he’d met would share their histories, he’d revisit the infamous tragedy and scandal that had been tremendous fodder for news vids.
* * * *
It was too early in the morning to be sociable, especially before coffee and after drinking the prior night. Nonetheless, Charity did her best when the hulking human in the gray law enforcement uniform stopped by the farm to introduce himself.
“I hope this is all right by you,” Assistant Chief Wilkes told Groteg, who’d answered the door. The Nobek ushered him in the kitchen where the clan, their children, and Charity were readying for the day. “I’m not in the habit of poking my nose in where your rescues are concerned, but since Ms. Seng is human…”
“It’s appropriate,” Groteg agreed. “Jennifer should be able to rely on all law enforcement should anything go wrong.” He made the introductions.
“Nice to meet you.” Charity shook the smiling man’s hand and marveled at how he was as big as a Kalquorian. Sure, there were tall humans, but she’d encountered few boasting the muscle and bulk of their cousin species. “I promise not to pillage any fields or cause much mayhem.”
“Then we’ll get along fine,” Wilkes laughed. He accepted a cup offered to him. “Oh, thank you, Sara. Never too much coffee.”
“I’ll say,” Charity mumbled as she took her first sip and glared at Tori. If it hadn’t been for her exuberant young friend crashing in her room at the crack of dawn and demanding a rundown of Charity’s night out, she’d still be sleeping.
Unaware, the girl shoveled the eggs Imdiko Utber had ladled on her plate in her gaping maw. “Jennifer went on a date last night. She’s so popular, three men brought her home.”
“How do you know that, young lady?” Sara’s face flushed as scarlet as Charity’s.
“I stayed up and watched from the window. One of the guys was Detodev, of all people.” Tori grinned at Charity. “He can be grumpy, but he’s always been nice to me. He built me a dollhouse when he lived here.”
“You stay in bed next time. You need your sleep,” Groteg mildly rebuked.
“It wasn’t a school night. I don’t understand why I have to go to bed so early.” Tori’s curiosity-bright gaze flashed at Charity. “Are you going to join a clan? The third man is an Imdiko. Mitag, you said? He throws the best parties in town.”
Charity rushed to explain her night out to the too-interested Wilkes, feeling her reputation flushing down the toilet. “Dramok Ilid…he came on the same shuttle I did…anyway, he and I went out as friends to Bar, Bowl, and Barrel.” She glared at Tori again and pretended she didn’t notice Adam’s heartsick expression. “We hung around Nobek Detodev, who was in the company of another guy, Imdiko Mitag.”
“Detodev and Mitag are your age,” Wilkes observed. “Nice guys. Hard workers. I have yet to meet this Ilid fellow.”
“He seems decent enough. His family is considering buying Gertie Boynton’s bakery.” Groteg wiped up the milk James had spilled on the table.
“All three insisted on seeing me home. I kind of got the idea they might continue their night out after offloading me,” Charity went on.
“They were legally sober to be shuttling around?” Wilkes narrowed his eyes at Groteg, but his smile said he wasn’t worried about the matter.
“Ilid was, and the shuttle was his family’s rental. Just in case, I gave them directions to your house. I told them if they felt the urge to crash their vessel, that’s where it needed to happen.”
The pair laughed. Wilkes drained his coffee and looked in his empty cup. “Any chance I can be a total mooch and snag a second?” He shot Sara an appealing smile as he nodded at the fresh pot sitting in the coffee maker.
She chuckled as she mopped up more milk James had spilled. The kid had issues getting the glass to his mouth before attempting to drink. “Of course. Just give me a moment.”
“No need. I can pour it myself. You look like you could use another cup too, Jennifer. Is it okay if I call you Jennifer?” He snagged Charity’s cup and headed for the elixir of life.
“Sure. I’ve been called worse.” She yawned and offered heartfelt thanks to Utber, who brought her a swala omelet and crispy baked ronka strips. She felt as pampered as a queen.
A little more conversation followed, which thankfully wasn’t centered on her night on the town. She happily tucked into the insanely incredible food while talk rose and fell in the background. Utber deserved to be worshiped as the kitchen god he was she decided.
A few minutes later, Wilkes bid them goodbye, ready to start his shift. “Easy day,” he chuckled as he headed for the door. “All those celebrating the weekend last night are tucked in bed. They’ll be too hung over to be a bother until sunset. By then, I’ll be home in front of the vid. Are you watching the game tonight, Groteg?”
The Nobek accompanied his law enforcement counterpart to the back porch as they discussed the start of kurble season. Utber offered Charity extra ronka strips, crisped to perfection.
She scowled. “No, you devil. You and your delicious food can keep your distance. What I mean is yes, and my expanding waistline is all your fault. They’ll have to roll me to my shuttle when it’s time for me to leave Haven.”
Utber laughed as he set the slices on her plate. He shooed the kids toward the stairs. “All right, gang, get ready for softball practice. We leave in twenty minutes.”
* * * *
Wilkes headed for town, his shuttle hovering low along the travel lane. He smiled to himself, pleased by his work.
He’d walked in Clan Amgar’s home, his private handheld device already recording audio. He was certain he’d gotten plenty of Jennifer Seng’s voice to have it analyzed and compared to the few samples of Charity Nath’s his contacts possessed.
None of it would be one hundred percent confirmed to be the traitor’s daughter. What had been recorded before had come from when she was quite young. Still, certain vocal patterns and idiosyncratic details would offer him some clue as to the probability of whether Jennifer and Charity were the same woman.
The audio recording had been only a backup if he’d been unable to claim better evidence. Since he had, her voice imprint wasn’t terribly important, just added support for any verification.
What mattered were the fingerprints and DNA he’d gotten from her coffee cup as he’d refilled it. If she were Charity Nath, he’d soon find out.
“You can run, and you can hide, but the truth will be revealed,” he chuckled, damned near giddy at his success under Groteg’s very nose. He was still laughing when he reached the office.