SNEAK PEEK

MARISTA

BY

BARBARA CARY

 

One  

Albian Desert , Planet Serraine
AD 2364

            After two standard months of duty at the Terran refugee center on Inara Wadi, Marista could finally tolerate the sight of blood.  But the stench of charred flesh that hung heavy in the corridor still forced sourness into her throat.

            As she jogged past the human carnage in triage and tried to keep pace with Bram Hyrek's longer strides, she worried her face had turned the same shade of pale gray as her uniform shirt.  She had to control the squeamishness.  Civilian casua lt ies during planetary civil war were too common.  In the next weeks and months she'd likely see and smell far worse.

            Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the chief med-tech cast her a sideways glance.  "Are you up to this?"

            Impatient with her weakness, she cleared the foul taste from her throat and clipped her words.  "I'm fine.  Just tell me what kind of accident..."

            "Not accident," Bram cut in.  "Incident.  The diplomatic kind.  That's why I alerted your Office.  Where's Bierich?"

            Given the uncertain nature of this emergency, Bram's preference for Madame Bierich was understandable.  Still, she struggled to control the resentment in her voice.  "The chargé is on her way back from the embassy in Timetsuara.  However, I’m authorized to deal with the situation.  Besides, I speak the Albian dialect, and I'm well versed in the customs of the desert dwellers."

            "Don’t take this wrong, Marista," Bram replied, but I think we need more than a linguist or the Deputy Administrator of Humanitarian Services.  Unless I miss my guess, we need an honest-to-Creation diplomat.  But," he added with a sigh, "I wouldn't have dragged you out of bed in the middle of the night if I thought this could wait.  The clansmen probably won't know the difference between you and Bierich anyway."

            She raised her brow.  "I'll make sure they don’t know the difference."

            They turned another corner and Bram pulled up short.  Hard on his heels, she skidded to a stop in front of Treatment Room Four.  An Albian clansman, clutching the butt and barrel of a desert rifle, guarded the door of the self-contained unit.  The long, black cylinder of his weapon contrasted sharply with his dingy white burnoose.  The man's coba lt eyes glimmered with pure threat.

            As she stared in disbelief at the clansman, she forced herself into a tenuous calm despite the jump of her heart.  "Bram, what in the name of holy Mother Creation is he doing with a weapon inside the compound?"

            The Albian clutched the barrel of his weapon harder.  Though she spoke to the med-tech in Terran Standard, she guessed the clansman understood the indignant tone of her voice.

            "At least he isn't pointing that thing at us," Bram muttered.  "We may have to bend the rules of wartime etiquette on this one.  The Albians don't believe our own Terran guard is adequate.  They may be right."

            When she jerked her gaze back to Bram he held up his hand before she could demand an explanation.  "Check out the treatment room, then tell me what you think."

            He guided her to the smaller of two viewing windows.  Though the glare from an overhead light cast a halo around her field of vision, she clearly saw the gurney filling one entire corner of the room and Zhora Paxton, a nurse, working over it.  Easing out of Bram's hold, she shaded her eyes with both hands and inched up on her toes to get a better view.

            A man laid face-up on the gurney.  A few short, crisp strands of brown-black hair clung to his damp, sun-darkened forehead above heavy brows.  The harsh white light set his face in relief and gave his defined cheekbones and square jaw the look of solid cast bronze.  His handsome, hard-edged profile lacked any hint of animation except an occasional blink.  Neither did the man offer a visible response to Zhora's touch.

            Marista let her gaze linger on the striking features a moment longer, then she scanned the man's length.  Warmth crept into her face when she realized he was naked except for a swatch of white surgical drape that started at his narrow hips and extended to mid-thigh.  The thin material outlined the solid lines of his masculinity.

            Aware she'd let her eyes linger too long where they shouldn't, she forced herself to take a more clinical study of the stranger.  From the waist up, his broad shoulders and chest made a swarthy contrast to the white linens.  The muscles of his left forearm and leg strained against security cuffs affixed to the gurney.  His heels overshot the foot of the thin mattress by a good measure.

            He was tall.  Taller than the rangy clansman standing guard.  Taller than most Albians, in fact.

            His stoic expression, wide classic features and powerful build resembled the ancient Earth stone-carved renditions of Aztec warrior kings.

            She dropped from the balls of her feet back onto her heels.  For the first time in two standard months, she worried about her safety as a neutral Terran diplomat stationed on a humanitarian outpost.  The clash of cu lt ure and politics that pitted the planet's two continent nations of Albia and Krillia against each other had, so far, left this oasis a place of refuge for the nomadic desert dwellers caught in the crossfire.

            Now, perhaps, this "incident" breached the neutrality of Terran soil.  Anyone could see the man was no simple desert nomad.  Injured and restrained he still exuded power and superiority.  The clansmen might have reason to be paranoid.

            She turned back to Bram.  "Who is he?  Where did he come from?"

            Bram glanced into the treatment room.  "The clansmen found him and four others at the wreckage of an air skimmer in the middle of the desert.  Most of the crewmembers, except for him, were outfitted in traditional clan robes.  The craft, though, wasn't Albian design."

            "Are they Krillian?"  She suddenly fe lt a new respect for Albia's sworn enemy.  "Do you think there's been an incursion this close to a major city?"

            "The clansmen think so," Bram hedged.  "Their leader told me that if four of the five survivors hadn’t needed critical medical care, he’d have taken them all to the military base at Timetsuara.  As a precaution, he posted his own guards throughout the compound."

            Apprehension slithered up her back.  "These men could be spies."

            Bram shrugged.  "True,  but in the past month, the worst fighting moved south and west by several hundred kilometers.  Who knows what they were doing so close to the city."

            He paused and shook his head.  "Even if they are Krillians they pose no danger to us.  One of the survivors died on the way here.  Two others suffered severe burns, and one man has massive cranial bleeding.  I'd be surprised if any of them lasted the night."  He rubbed the furrows in his forehead.  "One of the burn cases is a boy no older than sixteen.  Damn, Marista, they're fighting this war with children."

            For the first time, she saw the strain in Bram's face and laid her hand on his arm.  "I know you'll do the best you can.  I've seen the practice drills.  Your staff is one of the best."

            He tried to smile at her words, and then lifted his chin to indicate the man in treatment room four.  "At least this one should recover.  The clan leader said he put up one hell of a fight at the crash site before they secured him.  Except for a gash in his side he's unhurt.  Unlike the others he wore a standard flight suit that protected him from the fire.  He hasn't said a word, though.  Hasn't even groaned in pain."

            Aztec warrior kings wouldn’t cry out under pain of torture, she mused.

            In the next moment, she chided herself for the flight of fancy.  She was a member of the Diplomatic Corps, dedicated to finding peace through negotiation, not brute force.  She had little patience for men like her father, the General, who made war to solve problems.

            "The clan calls him the Silent One," Bram interrupted her thoughts.  "I suppose if I were in his place I wouldn't talk much either."

            Her skin prickled.  "You do think he's Krillian."

            Bram glanced at the guard, then back at her.  "I can't say for sure.  The clothing he wore beneath his flight suit didn't give us a clue to his identity.  That's why I called the Chargé's Office.  Since this outpost is neutral Terran soil, these men have a right to sanctuary under interplanetary law."

            "Which places us diplomatically between hell and a black hole if they are Krillian spies," she finished.  "So we have a potential incident."

            Bram nodded.  "In the end, that man in there may be the only survivor.  I'd say that makes him the unlucky one."

            When she frowned at the odd comment, Bram cast a furtive glance at the clansman before continuing.  "Our desert friends have notified the Albian military in Timetsuara of their find.  Lieutenant Sindri should be here with a platoon within the hour, and I have a feeling he's going to insist we release this Silent One into his custody."

            "Sindri?  Damn!"  She exhaled her frustration with the new knowledge she'd have to deal with the arrogant, ambitious officer.  In the days after she arrived at the post on Inara Wadi, she had struck up a cordial friendship with the Albian lieutenant.  That was before she realized Sindri wielded information, personal or otherwise, like he wielded a deadly weapon—with cold, calculating intent and accuracy.

            "I know. Sindri complicates the situation," Bram replied with ironic understatement.  "That's why I think our Silent One needs an impartial explanation of his options.  The problem is he won't communicate.  Whether he doesn't understand us, or he chooses not to talk..."

            "Is for me to figure out," she concluded, feeling tingles of both anticipation and foreboding.

            "Marista, are you sure you have full authority to act for Bierich?" Bram asked.  "You aren’t technically a diplomat."

            Bram's concerns stiffened her resolve.  "As Bierich's deputy I’m the closest thing to a diplomat this side of Timetsuara.  I'll simply try to conduct a basic interview, so the chargé can form a proper diplomatic response when she returns."

            Bram shrugged his agreement and turned his attention to the treatment room.  "I told Zhora to give him a relaxant along with a hypo of antibiotics.  He should be mildly sedated, but be careful.  Remember, the Krillians shot down that Albian civilian transport to start this war.  Don't assume they have any more regard for us because we're Terran."

            Her heart give a quick double beat.  She remembered too well vidscreen images of the charred and me lt ed transport wreckage that washed up on Albia's western equatorial shoreline.  The remains of the destroyed civilian transport, Rising Sun, and over a thousand men, women and children didn't fill three fifty -liter drums.  Imagining what those people must have suffered in their last moments left her cold with dread.  The flames.  The asphyxiating smoke.  The terror.

            Her own worst nightmare come hideously true.

            "Are you sure you can handle this, Marista?"

            Bram's impatient question cut through her mental lapse.  She resisted the urge to grasp the flower pendant that hung from a gold chain inside the vee of her open collar.  "Yes, I can handle this."

            The little flower talisman gave two mocking jumps with the fitful beat of her pulse.

            "Fine," Bram replied, as if he was eager to accept her word.  "A second guard is posted just inside the treatment room door.  But remember.  Watch yourself."

            She nodded.

            Bram smiled briefly, and then gazed down the corridor.  "I should go see if I can do anything for that boy."  Already lost in other thoughts, he turned and hurried away from her.

            She pivoted toward the window and stared at the stone-like profile of the Silent One.  She should have been more afraid.  The war had finally caught up with this remote humanitarian outpost.  Chance had deposited strangers, possibly Krillian spies, at her doorstep.

            But chance also had handed her a real challenge after two long months of bureaucratic data disk jamming, report replication, and disaster drills.  With Tessa Bierich absent, she could prove her worth in a crisis.  After today, she vowed, even Bierich wouldn't have reason to rate her fieldwork less than excellent.

            She finally touched the pendant and gave it a hopeful squeeze.  She slid her fingers down to the platinum Terran Diplomatic Corps insignia affixed to the left lapel of her pale gray shirt.

            Neither brief ritual helped steady the hammering of her heart as she pressed the door control and took a deep breath.

            Zhora glanced up from her duties when Marista strode into the treatment room.  "I thought Bram sent for the chargé.  What are you doing here?"

            Marista flinched inside, but dredged up a placid smile.  "Bierich isn’t here right now.  I'm in charge."

            Zhora turned back to her patient on the gurney.  "Well, she'll be sorry she missed this one.  We have a certified mystery on our hands."

            "Bram told me as much."

            Marista moved closer and noted a glimmer of feminine appreciation in Zhora's eyes as the nurse swabbed an antiseptic wash across a deep gash just below the Silent One’s rib cage.  The sinuous motion of the Zhora's hand seemed in perfect tempo with the steady rise and fall of the man's flat, hard abdomen as he breathed.  Though she knew little about medical procedure, she sensed Zhora let her touch linger on the bronze flesh longer than necessary.

            A twinge of envy surprised her.  Only then she realized how openly she stared at the man's beautiful naked torso.

            Embarrassed by the lapse of professionalism, she shook herself mentally, and sidled around the foot of the gurney making sure neither her shoes nor the hem of her trousers brushed the scorched and blood-soaked clothing discarded there.  Once in position opposite Zhora, she trained her eyes on the nurse.  "That flight suit looks as if three men bled into it."

            "His wound is deep enough to have caused the bleeding."  Zhora glanced down at the wadded flight suit.  "By all standards he should be in shock.  A gash this deep and wide usually needs minor laser cauterization.  Once we strapped him down and he quieted, though, the bleeding stopped.  Even more amazing, his blood pressure and heart rate have already dropped to normal."

            Zhora smiled more of her feminine appreciation as she set about bandaging the wound.  "Of course, you can see he's incredibly fit."

            Marista did see, and she suffered a stab of gui lt .  She had to stay focused on her professional duty.

            Zhora glanced up.  "I suppose you want to be alone with him."

            "Yes, I do."

            With a sigh, the nurse sealed the last corner of a synthaflesh bandage over the bronzed skin and stepped back.  "He's yours, for the moment.  When you finish, send for an orderly to move him into isolation."

            "Isolation?  Why isn't he being moved to a ward?"

            Zhora gave the clansman a glance.  "We can lock the isolation room from the outside.  The choice is a comfortable bed in there or restraints worse than this.  I think our patient would prefer isolation, don't you?"

            "But he's injured," Marista said, disgusted.

            "Tell that to the clansmen."  Zhora stole another glance at the stranger's length.  "Besides, he may be injured, but I wouldn't bet that platinum bar of yours he's helpless."

            The nurse hurried out of the treatment room.  Immediately, the Albian guard positioned himself at the door and lowered the barrel of his weapon a few centimeters.

            Marista recoiled at the naked threat of the desert rifle.  Even if the wounded man was a suspected spy, he had a right to speak with her in private without fear for his life.  She marched over to the sentry and, in desert tradition, nodded with formality to display her authority.  "You'll wait outside while I speak with this man."

            "No."

            She expected his initial stubbornness.  Albians boasted about that particular national trait.  However, she could match her own will with the Albians any day of the standard year.

            Though impatient she smiled warmly.  "I know you're concerned for my safety.  But this man is injured, restrained, and drugged into submission.  He poses no danger to me."

            The guard didn't budge.  She held her temper and widened her smile.  "You've handled your duty well.  I'll tell my superiors, and they will be grateful."

            The appeal to his Albian sense of duty worked, as she knew it would.  He cocked his head as if willing to hear more.

            She waved toward the gurney.  "But I have my duty as well.  I must speak with this man in private, so I can answer to my superiors with as much pride and honor as you."

            When the Albian's gaze darted between the gurney and her a half dozen times she knew he was weighing her appeal.

            He finally lowered his weapon.  "I'll wait outside.  Go to your duty."

            She nodded formally, the only thanks he'd expect.

            When the guard left and shut the door behind him, she let out a relieved breath and hurried over to the gurney.  For privacy, she stood at the man's shoulder with her back to the viewing window.

            He'd closed his eyes and lay still.  She found herself once again struck by his male beauty.  Though flame had singed the edges of his dark hair and brows ash white, the perfection of his angular face wanted for nothing, save a trace of animation.  She imagined a smile lifting his full, sculpted mouth and deepening the faint lines around his eyes.

            Peering at him in repose, she wondered if Bram's medicinal cocktail of antibiotics and relaxants had worked too well.  If the Silent One had lapsed into a twilight state, dispensing with the guard had been an exercise in futility.

            A glance at the life-sign monitor quashed that worry.  She had learned enough about medical instrumentation during her brief time at the outpost to understand he wasn't dozing.  His vitals were too strong.  In fact, his heart beat fast, and his blood pressure rose a notch while she watched the digital readout.

            Hoping he might open his eyes if he more acutely sensed her presence, she leaned forward.  He didn't twitch an eyelid, though his chest rose and fell more rapidly.  When his arms clenched, she realized he was simply ignoring her.

            His response was understandable.  Despite the life-sign readings, he was probably disoriented and terrified.  She needed to earn a measure of his trust.

Lowering her face, she positioned herself in his direct line of vision.  "I'm Marista Kaljin, Deputy Administrator of Humanitarian Services for this Terran outpost," she began, speaking softly and using the Krillian dialect first.  "Our chargé, Tessa Bierich, is absent.  But I can and will exercise the authority of the diplomatic office in her stead.  This is a neutral refugee and humanitarian center.  Though you were brought here by Albian nationals, you are under Terran protection.  Do you understand?"

            He no longer seemed to breathe, though the life-sign monitor indicated his heart rate and blood pressure rose another notch.

            Frowning at the disparity between outward appearance and autonomic responses, she repeated herself in Albian just in case everyone's best guess about these strangers was dead wrong.  Besides, if the men were infi lt rators and had disguised themselves as desert dwellers, surely they were versed in the rudiments of the Albian dialect, as well.

            Still no response.

            Her patience grew shorter along with her time.  "Sir, cooperating with me is in your best interest."

            To emphasize her insistence, she spread her hand over his fist.  "I can guarantee your safety until...Oh!"

            In spite of the restraints on his arms, the stranger jerked violently and repulsed her comforting touch.  She stumbled back a step.  Then she caught her breath, when eyes the color of polished obsidian speared her.

            The ancient warrior king had revived.  His glower struck at her soul with loathing and menace even as he lay at her mercy.

            Instinct warned her to flee.  Yet, the stranger's compelling, hate-filled glare held her rooted.

            Then, his body shuddered.  With a moan and a grimace, he fell back against the pillow.

            Forgetting her panic she lurched to his side.  "Lie still or you'll reopen your wound.  Do you want me to call back the nurse?"

            He shook his head, and his hand flew up as far as the restraints allowed.  She glanced at his fan of fingers to make sure she stood well away from his reach when a glint of metal riveted her attention.  The tiny gold band encircling his fifth finger winked up at her.  The ring looked too small and fragile to be masculine adornment for this intimidating man.

            Moreover, the glimpse of the ring settled her suspicions.  Albian males considered jewelry effeminate vanity.  They didn't even wear simple marriage bands.

            She looked back into the stranger's face, still regal and defiant but now beaded with perspiration.  As the Silent One struggled with his pain, she struggled with her conscience.  Images of the destroyed civilian transport crowded her mind again.  By serving the Krillian government in any wartime capacity, this man gave his implied approval of their inhumane conduct.

            Yet, as a neutral Terran diplomat, and in the absence of evidence he’d committed any crime, she had a sworn duty to protect and preserve his rights under interplanetary law.

            He let out a trembling breath fraught with pain and frustration.  Compassion unexpectedly stirred her heart and overrode her instinctive contempt.  He might be a Krillian spy, but he was brave and stubborn in the face of peril.

"Please, lie still," she pleaded with him.  "Thrashing will only hurt you more."

            To calm him, she laid her hand on his shoulder.  She didn't expect the charge of energy that raced up her arm at the mere touch of his fevered flesh to her cool fingertips.  Neither did she expect the rush of blood to her head.

            He flinched and gasped, as if he'd fe lt the sensation, too.  Yet, he quieted under her hand.  The hatred in his gaze gave way to bewilderment.

            Keenly embarrassed by her own reaction, she simply nodded her satisfaction and attempted a smile.  "As a representative of the Terran government, I'll see to your welfare and guarantee you sanctuary."

            "I'm sure he feels much better now."

            The voice startled her.  The sarcasm didn't.  She retracted her hand from the stranger and pivoted with as much poise as she could muster.

            Mocking blue eyes assessed her up and down.  She fought a chill of revulsion, then a flash of disdain as the soldier dipped his head in brief recognition.  "How nice to see you again, Marista Kaljin," he greeted without warmth.

            She returned his nod with no more respect than he'd shown her.  "I wish I could say the same, Lieutenant Sindri."

Text Copyright 2004 by Barbara Cary
Web Site Copyright 2004 by ImaJinn Books