Chapter Eighteen
Charity managed to avoid talking to Groteg the rest of the evening, mostly because she made it a point to hang out with Tori. They did their hair and nails and gossiped. When the Nobek dared to show his face at his daughter’s open bedroom door, Tori imperiously called, “Away, foul male creature! It’s girl time.” She grinned at Charity when he scowled but slunk off. The adolescent’s conspiratorial smirk clued her in on Tori’s realization Charity and Groteg were on the outs. To give Tori credit, she didn’t ask for information. Charity wondered how much of her situation the girl was aware of.
She wasn’t so lucky the next morning when Utber left for work and the kids for school. The children’s and their Imdiko father’s voices had barely faded when Groteg’s steady gaze stabbed at her. “It’s been arranged for you to evacuate quietly tomorrow morning.”
“Un-arrange it. I’m of age and can’t be forced to go if I don’t want to. I have no intention of leaving Haven.”
“Those in charge have other ideas on whether or not you can be made to go.”
“As I said, it’ll be against my will, and I’ll fight. I mean it, Groteg. There are plenty of shovels and heavy tools around for me to swing. I sharpened these just for the occasion.” She showed him her red-lacquered nails, filed nearly to points.
“Your life is in danger.”
“Thank you for pointing out it’s my life, which means it’s my choice.” Her tone softened, and she gazed at the bristling Nobek with undisguised affection. “I realize this isn’t a matter of you personally worrying you’ll be held legally accountable if I’m abducted or killed. You care, and I adore you for it, Groteg.”
He reddened. His mouth opened, then snapped shut.
She continued. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble if the worst happens. If there’s a form I can sign and have notarized stating I absolve the Kalquorian Empire, its fleet, and Haven of all responsibility for my choice to remain, I’ll gladly sign it.”
He managed to speak through gritted teeth. “I don’t care about being held accountable, which is why I’ll throw you on the damned ship myself—”
A knock at the back door interrupted him. Sara, who’d been watching the confrontation from the sink, answered it. “Good morning, Detodev.”
“Good morning, Matara Sara.” His voice was soft, and he bowed deeply to her before stepping in. He took in Charity and Groteg standing across the kitchen table from each other, their resolute stares betraying their disagreement.
“It isn’t just up to you to maintain her safety, Nobek Groteg.” Detodev accorded another respectful bow. “Ilid, Mitag, and myself are eager to do whatever it takes to protect Charity.”
“ You .” At Detodev’s wince, Groteg added, “You know I accept your pacifist views, young Nobek, despite disagreeing on our breed’s true nature. I have to challenge your determination to never give in to the need to fight. How can you possibly safeguard my ward if you adhere to your vow?”
“I continue to believe our breed uses the excuse of its categorization to resort to violence too readily.” Detodev maintained a respectful though unwavering tone. “However, I’ve thought through my encounter with the man apprehended outside my home. It failed to end in me tearing out his throat, much as the urge insisted. I believe my fear of losing myself to such violence will stop me from doing so. I can keep Charity protected from her enemies. Ilid and Mitag are equally committed to the same outcome.”
“Then convince her to leave Haven, damn you!” Groteg’s shout was accompanied by his fist slamming the tabletop. His fierce countenance eased a touch when Sara jumped. After shooting her an apologetic glance, he told Detodev, “It’s the only way to guarantee her security. Don’t you realize these assholes will continue coming?”
“Tell them to go ahead.” Charity was resolved to make her position clear. “I refuse to live in fear and hiding. Life is short in any case, and I’ll live as I choose. My choice is here among the friends I’ve made.”
She noted Detodev’s glance of hope before he re-centered his attention on the obviously disgusted Groteg. Her stomach churned, but she’d had the whole night to consider her desires and the risks involved.
Her resolve kept her steely in the face of the elder Nobek’s frustrated snarl. “I have to get to work. Rest assured, this discussion is far from done.” He shoved past Detodev and slammed the door as he left.
* * * *
Dolgra, realizing Groteg might be sick of him popping in by unphasing, played his part as delivery man to visit the security chief’s office early in the morning. It meant submitting to nearly twenty minutes of scans and searches. The small envelope he’d brought bearing Groteg’s name was inspected rigorously, but he bore the nuisance patiently. He wondered if the department had always been so meticulous, or if it were a new procedure. Thanks to the Darks, the virus, and the knowledge Earthtiques had gained footing on Haven despite careful vetting, everyone appeared to be on edge.
At last, he was granted entrance to Groteg’s office after encountering one last obstacle. Covering his irritation, which was finally making itself known, he insisted to Groteg’s assistant he was to deliver the now tattered envelope personally.
Groteg overheard him speaking through his open door. Looking ill-tempered…the very expression Dolgra had hoped to avoid…the Nobek poked his head out and said, “Come in. We need to talk.”
It wasn’t the welcome he’d hoped for. Dolgra wasn’t sure if his news, which had sent him to the security head in the first place, would be welcome or complicate matters.
“Door closed,” Groteg growled as he entered his inner space. “Made it through the gauntlet, I see.”
“Impressive safeguards,” Dolgra complimented, tossing the envelope on Groteg’s desk before taking the hover chair in front of it.
“What’s this?” The Nobek eyed the delivery as if he’d like to tear it apart simply for existing.
“Tickets to tonight’s performance of Cow Patties in Paradise for your clan.”
“Thanks, but we’ve agreed it’s too adult for our younger children.”
Dolgra hoped it wasn’t a personal rejection. He set aside disappointment for the real reason he’d come. “The delivery is a cover for me delivering news of importance. Browning Copeland died in his sleep last night.”
Groteg froze and took a second to recover. “Natural causes?”
“According to the preliminary autopsy.”
“What does this mean for Charity?”
“Immediately? It doesn’t mean anything. Copeland died as Kalquor’s and Borey Nath’s prisoner, which must never be revealed to the public. Especially now, when the All and its Darks are trying so desperately to divide and conquer the galaxy.”
“The fleet does intend for his passing to be revealed somehow, though? If only to destroy the Galactic Council’s case against us?”
“It’s being discussed, is my understanding. I’m not high enough in the hierarchy to hear more than the barest details.” The Nobek bringing up Matara Charity gave Dolgra a hint as to why he was in a temper. “Your ward didn’t take the news of being moved well?”
“She refuses to go. As I suspected, she’s become seriously attached to those young men I told you about, and vice versa. They know who she is, and they insist they’ll protect her from those determined to snatch her.”
Dolgra’s eyes narrowed at the unwelcome news. “Will they be a problem if we force her to leave?”
“She’s enough of a problem by herself, but yes, I have little doubt they’ll fight for her right to remain on Haven. She is an adult, Dolgra, and an Earther. She has every right to refuse our protection in spite of it endangering her.”
“She’s also family by clanning to a high-ranking admiral who’ll happily… ecstatically …rip our heads from our shoulders if anything happens to her. I don’t mean figuratively, either. Admiral Piras would literally tear our heads off.”
“You can’t talk to him? Get him to convince her?”
“Piras is nowhere to be found. Maybe the top brass is aware of his situation, but word is he and his clan went on a secret mission deep in Galactic Council space. They haven’t been heard from since.” Dolgra shifted the conversation back on track. “This is no time to bend to a young woman’s stubbornness no matter how infatuated she’s become.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t on board with getting her out of here. I believe it’s for the best if she leaves Haven. I simply understand why she’s being obstinate. She won’t go quietly. She’s smart but impetuous and could make trouble for you and the fleet in the end.”
“Piras and Matara Charity’s sister can deal with her when…if they return. I have my orders. I’ve leaned heavily on you thus far where she’s concerned, but can I rely on you to help me?” Dolgra made a determined effort to request, not insist.
To his relief, Groteg’s irritation eased. He nodded, then his face brightened, as if an idea had occurred to him. “Hey, about the show tonight…”
* * * *
“I get where Groteg is coming from. I do. But I’ve hit the point where I can’t do this any longer,” Charity said.
She and Sara sat at the kitchen table, their hands curled around the comfort of cups of coffee. They’d puttered around cleaning up breakfast until the older woman had finally sighed, poured them fresh cups, and said, “Sit. We need to talk.”
She gazed at Charity, her blue eyes full of empathy and concern. “Detodev, Ilid, and Mitag are part of your decision, aren’t they?”
Detodev had departed for the fields barely a minute after Groteg’s fiery exit, mumbling apologies to Sara for the tension he’d caused. Charity swallowed, remembering the glance he’d given her when she’d talked of not leaving her friends.
“They’re probably fifty percent of it. Okay, maybe I’m underestimating their importance,” she admitted when Sara’s brow rose.
“I’d say so.” Sara twitched a strained smile. “I get it when it falls on you like a ton of bricks out of nowhere. When it’s the last thing you think you need on top of everything else.”
Charity tried to find the words to explain she merely suffered from a bad case of infatuation, but they failed to come. Mostly because she feared it had gone beyond a heady crush. “It’s too fast.”