During his two-week stay in Nescar, a small village outside Kena Starbase, Hankura regained all the weight he lost and recovered his strength. But his bitterness over his and Chelle's ordeal eased little. There never would have been a raid on Zevus Mar if the Federation hadn't ignored the earlier Tregan invasions on commercial colonies in Sector Four. It made him angry every time he thought about it. What had he got for his trouble? A hundred thousand extra credits hazard pay vouchers and a platinum medal for bravery. They gave him a medal for killing more men than he wanted to count just so he could survive.
Damn it, he wasn't a hero! He accepted the medal in a formal ceremony then fled the base auditorium while the honors ceremony continued. He paused in the corridor outside the auditorium by a window. Trembling with emotion, he stared out the window at the little village of Nescar. There were many sleek new buildings---domes, towers, low, flat buildings---in the business district. It was an attractive community, and Hankura might have enjoyed his stay there under other circumstances.
"Damn!" He swore and pounded his fist against the wall beside the tinted window. He swore again at the pain he caused himself. He was filled with anger and outrage. The Federation released their public statements to the interstellar news services and passed out a few medals. So sorry for what happened. You got out alive, no harm done. Here's a medal for your trouble.
Glancing down at the shiny piece of metal pinned to his uniform, Hankura reached up and pulled it off, tearing a hole in the fabric over his breast pocket. He stared down at the medal in his hand. Its proud inscription blurred before his eyes. Then, he caught sight of a refuse tube a meter to his right. He blinked the haze from his eyes, took a last look at the award, and stepped toward the tube opening. His mouth tightened into a thin line, and he flung the medal into the tube.
He took slow, deep breaths and concentrated on mastering his raging emotions. He needed a couple of stiff drinks before he went back to the hotel to help Chelle finish packing. Hankura wanted to go back to her, but her emotional turmoil made it hard for him to be near her, lately. Being close to her aroused him physically, and she wasn't ready to make love yet. Chelle knew he would never push her, yet she felt threatened by his need. It hurt.
Finally, he turned to go to a tavern in the village. Captain Beras called his name, and Hankura tensed, not quite sure whether he had sensed the summons mentally or heard the Captain's voice. Slowly, the Aledan turned back to face the older man who looked regal and dignified in his dress uniform. His graying hair was closely cropped, neatly framing his wide, angular face.
Beras quickly scanned Hankura's thoughts, gaining the answers to his first five questions. "So what are your plans now?" he asked finally when Hankura shielded his more private thoughts. "Can I talk you into taking part in my next venture? They're giving me another exploration ship. She'll be ready in four standard months. All I need is a crew. We're going to open a new sector."
"Count me out, Captain. Chelle and I are in no position to make that kind of commitment right now. We need time to sort this all out, so we're going back to Aledus for a rest."
"I understand your need for rest, but do you really think going back to Aledus is a good idea? Are you looking to get yourself thrown in jail again?"
Hankura shook his head. "We won't be doing much socializing. And Chelle won't be going to the University. We're just going home for a while---such as it is."
"I understand," said Beras. "How is your wife? I noticed her absence at the ceremony."
"Depressed . . . angry . . . confused. Same as me. It's more than what they did to us. We're still grieving for Kaara and Gray---two of our closest friends killed so senselessly."
"And you think going back to Aledus will cheer you both up?" Beras's light sarcasm made Hankura chuckle softly and shrug.
"My mother has returned from psionic therapy on Velran. I want to make peace with her, and I want her to make peace with Chelle." Hankura said. "I don't like the psi laws, but I know the rules on Aledus. And the Federation got my original sentence suspended for that trouble a few years back. I can't get a work permit, but I can travel freely---as freely as any Psion on Aledus."
"Then what?" Beras persisted.
The Aledan shrugged. “We were planning to go back to Oltarin and see about settling there to start a family… Now, we can barely decide what to have for our next meal.”
"Well, if you change your mind about renewing your contracts, get me on sub-space telcom. I'll be stopping off at T'llead Starbase in five or six months." The base was located on the tundra of Aledus in the southern hemisphere.
"Sure, Captain, but don't count on it."
Beras nodded and extended a thick, wide hand. "Good luck," he said as Hankura clasped it firmly.
"Thanks. I need it." Hankura grinned wryly. He met the Captain's gaze for a long moment. Beras was grateful for Hankura's help in their escape from the Tregans, and he was well aware what it cost the Aledan. He would miss their comradeship. There was a lot they left unsaid as Hankura turned to leave. The two telepaths shared a friendship that went far beyond words that could be spoken. It would last long after they parted company.
Sauntering into the only tavern in Nescar, Hankura took a seat at bar alone and ordered a bottle of carava and poured himself a double shot. He'd poured a second drink when he noticed the Zevian, Marn, sitting alone at a corner table. Hankura sensed the other man wasn't feeling much more cheerful than he.
On impulse, Hankura picked up the bottle and his drink and ambled over to the little table. The tavern was dark and stuffy, located in a seedy section of the village. It seemed like the perfect place for a man in Hankura's frame of mind.
"Care for some company?" he asked Marn in Zevian.
Marn looked up from his drink, undecided, then shrugged. "Why not?"
Hankura pulled out a gray plastic chair and dropped himself into it, setting his drink on the table in front of him. "You got the news? As soon as it's safe to start rebuilding your homes, the Federation will transport those who want to go to Zevus Mar."
"But that won't be for a couple months. The way they operate, it'll take them that long to round up the rest of those Tregan vat soldiers. We want to go back to Zevus Mar, now. Rumors say the military will be pulling out in two weeks. There's no reason for them to make us wait. We want to take part in the rebuilding. It's our home."
"I can understand how you feel," Hankura told him and took a swallow of his drink. He felt its bite all the way down. Welcoming its numbing effect, he took another swallow.
"Maybe you know how I feel, but they don't. We were just starting to build up our mining trade. The Tregan bombs destroyed nearly everything we'd built," Marn said miserably. "We didn't even have a defense system. No one expected an invasion in that part of Sector Four. We thought the Federation would protect us. Ha! Some protectors! If it weren't for us, Zevus Mar would have fallen before the fleet ever came to help us."
"I sense your bitterness." Hankura took another swallow from his glass. "I have my own share." He downed the rest of his drink and filled his glass again from the bottle then offered to fill Marn's as well.
Marn nodded. "I hate being here when I know my friends and relatives on Zevus Mar still need help---food, clothing, and medicine. I can do nothing for them but wait until the Federation decides we can go back."
"Right. The Federation does everything in its own good time. Just keep after them. They're gathering crews and medical supplies to send to Zevus Mar. It should only be a few weeks now."
"A couple too many for me."
"I wish there were something I could do." Hankura sympathized vaguely.
There is, Aledan. You could come back and help us. Physicians are few and far between on Zevus Mar.
Hankura let out a bitter laugh. "How can I take care of anyone else when I couldn't even help my wife?"
Marn looked startled as he had forgotten the Aledan was a telepath. Then he cast a defiant look at the other man. The Aledan had suffered no more than he had. "You're alive---she's alive. You can either live or euthanize. Dying is easy. Living's the real challenge. It's your choice."
It was Hankura's turn to look startled. A sense of déjà vu sent a chill up his spine. Those were nearly the same thoughts Kaara had offered Chelle when she died. Remembering, he let out a long shaky sigh and rested his gaze on Marn for a pensive moment. "I'll think about your offer, Marn. I really will."
"Think hard, Hankura. We need you, and after we rebuild ... you might decide to stay. We could help each other heal."
He nodded. "We all need time to heal."
"And how much time does it take?" asked Marn.
"Damn, I wish I knew, Marn. I wish I knew." Hankura sighed and finished off the rest of his drink. "It's time for me to get back to the hotel. Chelle and I are shipping out tonight ... and if you're looking for Tira, she's with Chelle commiserating over a bottle of this stuff.
"I'll walk with you then. We must collect our children from the center."
Nearing his quarters, Hankura heard laughter from inside. He exchanged an uncertain glance with Marn. It took him a moment to understand. They found Chelle and Tira on the plush sofa with a spent bottle of carava and part of another on the table. They were both quite drunk.
Tira glanced up, giggling as Hankura and Marn came closer. "Tregan slega," she laughed and made grunting animal noises.
"Tregan slime rats," Chelle squealed. "Let them crawl back to the slime world from which they came--the bastards!"
"They're not worth our spit," added Tira. "And certainly not our tears."
"Certainly not." The smile died from Chelle's face, and she looked up at her husband. "Either-of-you-wanna-drink?"
"No." Hankura shook his head and moved closer until he stood swaying over her. "We've had enough and so have you. You're both drunk."
"But in much better spirits," she slurred and laughed even though it wasn't really funny. She wouldn't cry again. There was no point in it; tears only sharpened the pain, and the pain was still there when all the tears were gone.
Hankura busied himself picking up the glasses and an empty bottle. He wanted more than anything to comfort Chelle, but he didn't know how without facing his own pain. As he dumped the glasses and empty bottle in the disposal chute, Marn discreetly left with his wife in tow.
Chelle got up and stumbled toward Hankura. She draped her arms around his shoulders to steady herself, then pressed her body close against his. He stiffened at her touch, and her eyes met his in a hurt look. Don't you want me anymore? Is it because of them?
Sweet Goddess, of course, I want you. I just didn't want to remind you...
Please remind me ... remind me of what we had, not what they took from us. Hold me, Hankura, let us remember...
He needed no further encouragement to become caught up in her passion, entwining it with his own. Passion made them one, mind and body, yet they never quite reached that magical point of ecstasy that had held them in its grasp almost from the beginning. The specter of their recent past held them back from the pinnacle, tainting their love making with bitter flashbacks.
Another man---a Normal---would not have known. Their joining had been quite satisfying, sexually, but mentally, they held back from each other what they once shared completely.
Chelle stirred in her sleep against his shoulder, and a small sob shook her. She wept softly in her sleep, wetting his skin with her tears. Hankura suddenly felt ashamed of his petty dissatisfaction, wishing he had taken more care to keep it to himself.
Darling, don't cry. We were expecting too much, too soon.
But I don't want it to be like that. I don't want to remember that kind of fear when I am in your arms. I have only known tenderness in your arms.
I have no right to feel that way. We have made a new beginning. It is only human to want what we cannot have. It will come.
He held her close and kissed her cropped hair. In time, he told himself, yet he couldn't quite hold back his doubts.