Massoud (Massoud Chronicles Book 1) Page 6

  “I need you, now”, he demanded suddenly. Although not unexpected, Massoud was startled by the harshness of his claim. She had mentally rehearsed for this moment.

  “Captain, there are some requirements we need to discuss first.”

  “Requirements?” he snarled.

  “Yes, remember I am in command when you are in this state. You must listen to what I say. Do you understand that?” She had adopted the same tone she used with Speck on a bad day. The captain nodded in a surly manner.

  “You will be gentle and respectful. Do you understand?” He gave another indifferent nod. “Most of the day you will call me Massoud or Commander. However, when we…we are intimate, we will use first names. This will help me psychologically and you will do this for me. Do you understand?” Another nod. “And this business will be a private matter between us, not to be shared with other parties. I don’t want my career, if we ever get back to the fleet, to be damaged by this. Do you understand?” He nodded again, his face downcast.

  Massoud sighed. There was nothing else she could think of. “What is your first name anyway?” she asked, “I’ve never heard anyone say it.”

  “Teloc. I have only one name.”

  “Alright, I can work with that. Mine is...”

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” She was a little surprised he knew her given name, but then remembered that he had seen her service records and had an ironclad memory. The preliminaries were complete, and she sat tentatively, playing with her splint. Teloc crawled to her, pressing his lips against hers. “Gentle!” she pled in a small voice. He paused, as if he was making an extreme effort to control himself, and then he wrapped his arms about her, kissing her softly all over her face. Every muscle in her body relaxed.

  “I will take care of you, Elizabeth.” His voice was muffled tenderness. She yielded to him completely.

  During that day’s hike, she had reviewed the intimacy of the first night, needing to come to terms with it and to give it a name. The word fornication had sprung to mind much too readily, and she banished it as ugly and blunt. Sexual intercourse was a term that tolerably fit her own perceptions of the experience, but she liked it little since it echoed with emotional disconnection. However, on that second night, there was no doubt that they were making love—sweet, sensitive, and sensual, dissolving his anger and annoyance. He held her afterwards, stroking, touching, and playing with her dark hair; it held a fascination for him. He spoke sweet things to her—almost nonsensical coming from him—making her laugh quietly. It was so, so long since she had laughed or had been held. She slept. He woke her to make love again, while the rain became heavy and pounded on the sheeting above, the only sound other than their own heartbeats and the rustle of the fabric of their semi-discarded uniforms.

  By morning, they were both sated and he, most heartbreakingly, was Capt. Teloc again, detached and decisive. Her instinct was to call his name softly, but it would be useless to expect Teloc to respond when there was only the captain to hear. She badgered herself into her role as a fleet officer, recalling, with surprising difficulty, the urgency of their situation. Her shoulder was stiffer than the day before, but she helped pack up the camp as best she could.

  “I will carry everything,” he announced, “except this.” He handed her the weapon.

  “I won’t need it,” she responded. “There are no animals on this planet.”

  “Do not make the mistake of trusting me. I do not trust myself. I am perilously close to the brink.”

  Massoud nodded once, accepting the warning. She checked the weapon was still set on stun and secured it in safety mode before clipping it to her waistband.

  They set off towards the southern pass in the low-lying mountains. They would reach the gap by the end of day if all went well. The ground was even soggier than before. At each rest point, they wrung out their shoes and socks. Massoud started to limp; she had developed a blister on her heel. The captain tended to it. The first aid supplies worked effectively to not only treat the wound but to protect surrounding tissue. Another layer of protectant was applied to her other heel as a preventative measure. Massoud was relieved to see the captain treat his own heels in the same fashion. She was acutely aware that her physical vulnerabilities were impeding their progress, and it helped to know that he had limitations too.

  They made camp at the base of the mountains, selecting a site just a little above the tangled wetness of the plain. Teloc started playing with her hair as soon as they settled into the tent. It was his signal to her. He made her forget her feet and her shoulder and her wrist, relaxing her enough to sleep deeply and late. Her battered body needed more rest than they could afford to take. Teloc made sweet love to her again before they set off, with the convenient excuse that the mountain climbing would set him in a dangerously foul mood otherwise. Elizabeth was happy to accommodate his needs.

  She had cursed the matted wet flora of the plains, but the rocky steepness of the mountain pass proved worse. Gravity was a notable antagonist. Many times, she freed her injured wrist from her jacket to maintain balance, more thankful than ever that Teloc carried the kit. He paused often, to limit himself to her pace. This triggered her to push harder against the challenge of the slope. She did not want to be the reason for delay. Once again, her shoulder spasmed. She distained favoring it, demanding her muscles maintain it in a normal position, and it was objecting fiercely. Teloc grew irritated with her progress. She was in no fair mood herself.

  Stopping for yet another rest, the captain insisted on checking her injuries. Removing her splint, he found her wrist riddled with yellow and grey patterning, but the swelling had reduced. Removing her jacket, he found the same discoloration on her shoulder. The cold mountain air felt good against the shoulder, but they could think of no useful way to expose only her shoulder to the elements. Teloc massaged the undisciplined muscles until they settled down, an excruciating process—in improving the muscles’ condition, the bruised flesh was subject to significant distress. Elizabeth winced, biting her lips, desperate to get it done, and to get back on route. Suddenly Teloc was gone from behind her. She turned to see him march downhill, kicking stones and issuing expletives. It was early afternoon, too soon for him to lose himself. She followed, leaving her jacket behind, more than willing to be chilled temporarily, if it gave her shoulder relief. She reached him as he collapsed his lengthy form onto a rock, yielding to wretched sobbing.

  Elizabeth felt guilty to be relieved at this misery, but it was less frightening than his anger. Placing her left arm around his shoulder, gratefully stretching out her bruised shoulder, she grasped his large fingers in her own diminutive right hand. She wanted to encompass him, wrap his massive person up in her warmth but could only do so figuratively. His sobs continued, interspersed with words which were difficult to understand:

  “I’ve hurt you so much. Everything I do hurts you. I am so bad, I hate myself. I want to die.”

  She held him close, as best she could, a tiny mother comforting a giant child. “You have not harmed me. You know that. How could I manage on this journey without you? You carry the load. You navigate. You take care of me. I would be lost without you.”

  “I have used you. I have used you.”

  “No, that’s not how it’s been. Please don’t feel bad about that.”

  He shook his head, wiping his wet face with the back of his hand, reminiscent of a child a tenth of his size. “I coerced you. You had no choice.”

  Elizabeth laughed out loud, shaking her head. “You silly man. It’s what I wanted too.” And she rose from her spot, as if to emphasize the absurdity of his assertion, shouting behind her as she walked away, “Let’s get back on the trail, Captain. We have a crew to find.”

  He followed her, sobs subsiding. She wondered what went on in his head. His habit was to be silent. Did he know that keeping these emotions bottled up would make things worse? Those Gnostian monks didn’t understand how to manage this myash business
at all. They needed some advice from old fashioned Terran mothers. Her sister Noor would sort out the entire business in a single afternoon with the help of milk, cake, and a little wheedling.

  That day, they only travelled ten kilometers as the crow flies. It had to be accepted, the terrain was brutal. The following day would include more climbing and then, thankfully, the mapping hinted that the slope down to the next valley floor would be gradual. Elizabeth had to encourage Teloc into the tent that night. Remorse pulled him out of her presence, but she insisted he come in. He could not spend the night outdoors and she could not spend the night without him.

  The following day was bright, and patches of blue were interspersed with the clouds. It was cheerful weather and Elizabeth hoped it would reinforce Teloc’s humor, which had improved with coddling and cuddling. He took the entire load of the kit as usual, though it became lighter each day as they consumed water and gel packs. His long legs found footing easily as they climbed the steep boulders. Her shorter stride delayed them, since she sought out a different path as they headed upwards towards the pass.

  She lifted her head up, to find him standing above her, one hand outstretched to her, the other resting on the strap of the knapsack. Then he smiled at her while a patch of clear sky framed his black hair. She was dumbstruck, almost frozen in place. She had experienced this moment before, literally on a different world, long ago as a tiny child, while looking up at an adolescent brother who had reached down to help her climb a boulder. The clear blue sky of Mecca 6 had framed the boy’s long dark hair as it snaked in the wind.

  Disorientated, Elizabeth found a bulging outcrop and dropped down onto it. It was not merely that she remembered that moment so many years ago, but she felt it. The same emotions welling up and filling her senses as if she had been transported from one place to the other. She re-experienced the absolute trust she had in her big brother, the adoration he inspired, and the naive faith she had in her young and inadequate protector.

  Instantly, Elizabeth understood that she felt the same for this alien man, and the feelings overcame her. She had not begun to love Teloc on this planet. She had loved him as her captain, long before now, a dormant love which she had persistently ignored. She could not tell when it had started, but it had been there a long time. It not only grew from her faith in him to keep her safe, to treat her kindly, or to respect her. It was his calmness. The sudden clarity that the long silent dinners they had shared on board were a communion, a quietness she could not achieve without him, with peace that only he could bring.

  “My heart has always been in turmoil. He makes it still,” she reflected with astonishment. Her response to his touch had not been a thing of the body, but a thing of the heart. The insight liberated her; she had feared that their current relationship was tawdry.

  Trusting Sayeed had been foolish all those years ago. He had led her to the wilderness beyond the family farm, gotten lost, and placed her in genuine danger. Her faith in her insubstantial brother had made her feel secure when she truly was not. Here on Seven B, it was the same. She had allowed herself to be mesmerized by her relationship with Teloc and had not viewed their circumstances objectively.

  Teloc was before her now, hunkering down to her level, intense concern written on his face. It was yet another emotion for him to manage.

  “Elizabeth, what is wrong? Are you unwell?” he said as he brushed wayward hair from her face.

  “No, just shocked,” was her incomplete reply.

  “Shocked?”

  “I think...I think, I’ve just fully comprehended, what terrible danger we’re in. The simplest thing could lead to disaster. We might not find the others. There may be no food on this planet. You could twist an ankle. Anything could happen. I’m worried Teloc.” She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest and immediately feeling the comfort that emanated from him. He stroked her hair gently.

  “These are truly difficult days, Elizabeth Massoud, but I believe—indeed I know—that you will endure and survive. It is a truth that bears no questioning.”

  Elizabeth pulled away from him, to look into his eyes, so resolute and confident. Her heart ached with love for him. She was not ready to burden him with that knowledge; it was something too hefty for his fledgling emotions to bear. She laid her head on his chest for several moments, devouring his strength.

  “I’m being childish,” she declared with false cheerfulness. “It’s better if we get on our way. There’s only a little more uphill climbing, then it’ll get easier and I’ll outpace you. You’ll see.” She leapt up, striding uphill.

  “That is improbable.”

  “This is not a time to be literal, Captain. Have faith in me.”

  “I have always had faith in you, Massoud.” He followed her up the hill.

  5. Desperation

  M assoud’s newly discovered fear had to be managed, before it paralyzed her. The silence of the planet was unnerving. When the breeze did make a sound, it was a whispered howl that did nothing to calm her unsettled nerves. To dispel the daunting quiet, and to distract herself, Massoud prompted Teloc into conversation as they hiked up the near barren hill. She wheedled his life story from him, a version that was a little impersonal and fit for entry into a database but, by the end, she knew more about him than ever before.

  “Well, if I ever want to tell friends about our relationship, and they ask about you, at least I don’t have to respond ‘dunno’ to every second question,” she said when he had concluded.

  “Your statement, and your interest in my past, present two questions to my mind. Firstly, what is the importance of my life history to you and, secondly, why would you share such information with friends when you have stated that you want the nature of our current relationship to remain private.”

  “Well, when a woman sleeps with a man, and she has some self-respect, she likes to think she knows him fairly well and understands something of his background. If she doesn’t know those things, it makes the relationship feel cheap and then she feels cheap too.”

  “I do not understand your logic. Surely after having served together for so long, you understand my character sufficiently to make prosaic facts irrelevant in your assessment of me.”

  “Maybe, but it’s still good to know those facts. If nothing else, it will give the impression that we actually talked to each other before sleeping together.”

  “We have talked frequently over the last two years—although, admittedly, rarely about personal matters.” He paused. “To return to my earlier question, why would you discuss that which you wish to remain private?”

  “Well, people need to talk—at least Terrans do. Otherwise we’ll burst with all the things we keep inside. Maybe, that’s what your myash is really about.” She contemplated this momentarily before continuing. “Anyway, there are ways to talk about a relationship without giving away too much information, but still share your feelings.” She glanced warily at him, wondering if he would disparage the notion of sharing feelings not facts.

  “How so?” was his only response.

  “Well, for example, I might meet up with an old friend, and she might ask if I’ve met any nice men, and I would say, ‘There was this one man, it felt really good. He was kind and reliable, smart and handsome. He could be so tender and loving. Things were really intense between us for a while, but it burnt out. We were just too different.’”

  “Ah, I see. It appears your intention would be to share a vague history of our relationship in order, I presume, to experience emotional solace from your friend. However, I do not see why you needed my curriculum vitae for such a conversation.”

  “Oh, it just adds depth.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “I know, and that’s why it won’t work out between us.” Massoud intended this comment to be lighthearted, but it came out tainted with bitterness.

  They continued uphill in silence for a few minutes before Teloc paused to allow her to catch up. As he stood facing he
r, he spoke.

  “Elizabeth Massoud, if I were to share similar comments with an old friend, although such behavior would be unlikely on Gnost, I would say, ‘I knew a remarkable woman, resilient and resourceful, sympathetic and warm. She was very beautiful. Her skin was soft, and her hair as silky as a fath’s. She held my heart in her hands and nurtured it kindly. However, I could not give her what she needed, and she sought happiness elsewhere.’”

  Elizabeth’s heart ached, moved both by his words and by the knowledge that her lover’s affection for her was as transitory as his myash. “Do I really hold your heart in my hands, Teloc?” she asked vulnerably.

  He nodded. “Only figuratively, of course, and temporarily,” he stated. “Once I return to my normal self, I expect to feel no significant emotional connection to you, Elizabeth Massoud. I am sorry. This will not be a reflection on you. It is my nature. I understand enough of Terran feelings to know that this will be difficult for you.”

  She exhaled deeply. What a challenging man he was, sending her heart to the clouds in one moment and, in the next, slicing through it with razor sharp rationality.

  “I will try to accept it. You can only be yourself, Teloc. I don’t expect you to be anything else,” she stated softly and with a remarkable degree of acceptance.

  He stared at her, apparently struck by her words in a way she could not interpret. They began to walk again.

  “What is a fath, anyway?” she asked in a sunnier tone.

  “A fath is a pet, often kept by children on Gnost. It is valued for its fine, silky hair that curls—like yours. I have never touched human hair that felt like yours, Elizabeth.” He put his hand up to his own coarse straight hair. “Your hair is very remarkable, very remarkable indeed.”

  Elizabeth could only smile; her hair was very ordinary, in every way, but for its length. “So, you think I’m some kind of house pet,” she said with good humor. “I hope you’re not one of those Gnostians who thinks that we are different species?” and then she added with a little concern, “You do believe we’re both human, don’t you, Teloc? They say Gnostians think we’re not the same species, that we don’t have a common ancestor. Is that what you think?”