Sleeping With the Enemy (9 page)

    “Yes, many, and some fairly advanced civilizations.”

    “And you’ve… colonized many worlds?” she asked tentatively.

    Anka seemed to wrestle with himself. “The worlds that will bear life have. We’ve never considered it… just to take what is already claimed by those who evolved on a world.” He smiled faintly. “Animals are amazingly territorial-even those of higher intelligence. We respect that.”

    Spencer made a derisive sound that made Sybil long to be close enough to punch him in the face. Anka’s lips tightened, but he seemed determined to ignore any provocation Spencer tossed at him.

    Alien or not, Sybil had to admit his tolerance, whatever his motivation, commanded respect.

    She was fairly certain he had some ulterior motive for behaving so graciously. She’d seen a look in his eyes more than once that made it clear that he was keeping his temper on a tight rein and that he wouldn’t have minded knocking Spencer’s teeth down his throat otherwise.

    She was pretty convinced he could do it, too. As lean as he was, there was very little on his tall frame beyond muscle. Of course, Spencer was built like a tank, but he was also far shorter and she doubted he outweighed Anka.

    “I have offered the troops a special treat tonight,” Anka announced as the droids collected the remains of their meal. “It’s been a while since they were allowed much in the way of recreation or socializing. You are welcome to stay and take part as guests, or you may return to your quarters, whichever you prefer.”

    Sybil’s belly tightened with uneasiness. She wasn’t certain if it was because she was unnerved at the thought of mingling with the
ferils
, if she was worried about what their idea of fun might entail, or if it was because she was afraid of what Spencer might do, but she didn’t know how to respond.

    “Corporal Spencer would like to return to quarters,” Powell said, giving Spencer a hard look. “I’d like to stay.”

    Holly looked as uneasy as she felt but she relaxed fractionally at the discovery that Spencer wouldn’t be allowed to try to stir up the animosity of the
ferils
. She smiled a little tremulously. “Thank you. I believe I’d like to stay, as well.”

    She still looked anything but thrilled and Sybil wondered if she’d decided to stay to try to be polite, because she was interested in observing on a scientific level, or if she simply didn’t want to be stuck with Spencer. When Kushbu expressed a similar desire to stay, though, she realized she certainly didn’t want to be alone with Spencer, even if she was still wary of joining the
ferils
.

    When Anka sent her a questioning look, therefore, she smiled and expressed her appreciation at the invitation.

    Spencer was sullen as he was escorted out, but once he’d gone Sybil discovered she was able to relax… even surrounded by the ‘enemy’, as he’d put it.

    They rose from their seats when everyone else did, moving out of the way and watching a little uneasily as the troops cleared the room, stacking most of the tables and chairs against the wall and then setting a line of chairs out so that anyone who wanted to could simply sit and watch.

    Anka stood stiffly erect, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the soldiers as they cleared the room and set it up for whatever it was they were about to do. Sybil divided her time between watching what was going on and studying Anka when she thought no one would notice.

    It was the first time she’d seen any of the
ferils
besides him. She was embarrassed to admit, even to herself, that she’d more than half suspected that she wouldn’t be able to tell one from another. He truly was impressive, handsome even among his own people, though.

    Of course, she supposed their concept of handsome might be entirely different from hers, but from her point of view, he was… magnificent. She wasn’t altogether sure it was entirely his looks, however. There was no doubt that he was handsome and well built, even compared to the physical perfection of the other soldiers, who were no doubt also very fit for their species due to their profession. She supposed it was partly due to his position of power, but she actually hadn’t thought much about that-or didn’t think she had.

    She thought it was his personality more than anything else. She couldn’t help but admire the traits she’d seen in him even while she wondered if she’d seen the ‘real’ Anka at all. For all she knew he might be an excellent actor, playing a role entirely for their benefit.

    He’d admitted he knew a great deal about them-his facility with their language was proof even if he hadn’t-but she had to wonder if it went well beyond that. He hadn’t wanted to tell them any specifics about how long they’d studied humans, but they must have gathered a lot of data over the years. They must have studied the human psychology exhaustively.

    Then again, even humans had trouble understanding other humans. Was it possible for a people so different to understand an entirely different species?

    She discovered when she emerged from her reverie that she was not only staring directly at Anka, he was staring back, a faintly quizzical expression on his face.

    He moved closer, coming to stand beside her, but when he spoke he included her entire group. “This is festival, a custom that goes back many generations among my people. It’s celebrated at the beginning of each season-Sumptra has four as the Earth does.”

    Holly looked delighted. “We have pagan rituals that we still observe for the seasons.”

    A glint of amusement entered his eyes. “You do?” he prompted, although Sybil had the feeling he was well aware of it.

    “Well,” Holly said depreciatingly, “I don’t suppose exactly the same. The beliefs of so many cultures have blended together until it’s rather a hodgepodge-a very loose marking of the seasons with ritual. And so many new holidays have been added that celebrate other things, but a lot of the holidays we celebrate now had their roots in pagan rituals.”

    He nodded. “Ours are a celebration of life and renewal, an appreciation for what each new season brings. It is a time for choosing lovers.”

    Holly gaped at him in horror.

    Sybil whipped her head so quickly to stare at him that she popped a joint in her neck.

    His lips twitched. “No one expects any of you to take part,” he murmured, his voice shaking with amusement, “Although you are certainly welcome to do so if you would like to.”

    Powell shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe we shouldn’t have stayed,” he murmured.

    “Maybe I should explain,” Anka countered. “You are not about to witness what you would call an orgy. The song and dance is a courtship ritual, but there is no obligation for anyone to chose. There is simply the opportunity to do so, and everyone takes part in them- even elders who no longer have any interest in courting or taking lovers.”

    Holly cleared her throat, obviously torn between scientific curiosity and a natural shyness that made her uncomfortable with the subject. “But the festival is how… uh… when you… uh… mate? And then you choose another at the next festival?”

    “Sometimes. Those who have no lover, or who are unhappy with the one they chose before, may find another who appeals to them more. For those who have found a lover they wish to stay with, it’s a time to renew their pledge to one another, to enjoy the excitement of that first meeting all over again.”

    Sybil didn’t know about the others, but she was still confused. She wasn’t comfortable with the idea of asking him to explain in more detail, however. Fortunately, Holly managed to overcome her own discomfort.

    “Then you’re saying that you don’t have marriage as we do? Or is this something else?”

    Anka shrugged. “We do not have marriage as you do.” He frowned thoughtfully and finally smiled. “It’s rather more like an endless honeymoon. Lovers never live together as your people do. Our blood bonds are strong and we stay with them, with the family we were born in to. Each night males go to their lovers and each morning we return to our own homes.”

    Powell looked intrigued.

    He would, Sybil thought sourly. “I suppose that would keep things fresh,” she said wryly, “None of the tedium of day to day life.”

    Anka’s eyes gleamed with more than amusement as he studied her. He shrugged. “It has worked for our people for many generations. We are rarely lonely and always aware that if we fail our lovers we will not be welcome to return and they will choose another.”

    Sybil stared at him while that slowly sank in. “The women choose.”

    Surprise flickered across his features. “Of course.”

    “You have a matriarchal society,” Holly exclaimed with sudden comprehension.

    “Naturally. As I said-blood bonds-and there is no surer way to follow them. In any case, it is the mother who makes the home.”

    Sybil and Holly both glanced at Kushbu and Powell with amusement to see how they’d taken that news. Both men looked disbelieving, irritated, and uncomfortable. Sybil could see they were regretting the decision to stay. She discovered, however, that she felt a good deal better about her own decision, not nearly as intimidated by the fact that the males in the room outnumbered the females by about six or seven to one.

    There were a surprising number of women for all that considering that it was a military gathering. She wouldn’t have thought, given what he’d said about their society, that women would be inclined to want to join the military. It sounded as if, on their world, they held a great deal of power.

    Maybe that in itself explained it, though? With power came responsibility. Or maybe it was just customary in their society for all young people, male and female, to serve?

    That didn’t seem to fit, however, not when the men outnumbered the women-unless there was simply an imbalance of the ratio of men to women on their world? She might have speculated on it longer except that the first strains of music began to play and the soldiers began to form into groups.

    The music was lively and so was the dance. It reminded her strongly of old fashioned country dances she’d seen in old vids, although, not surprisingly, neither the steps or the movements were like anything she’d seen. By the time it ended, the dancers were breathless and relaxed enough to smile and talk with one another animatedly.

    “Would you care to try it?” Anka asked politely when the next song began and the dancers began to form up once more.

    Sybil grimaced. “I don’t think I could. I don’t know how to dance like that.”

    “No one expects you to know it.”

    Sybil chewed her lip, wavering, but it did look like fun. “Promise not to laugh?”

    He grinned at her. “I give you my word.”

    She glanced uncertainly at Powell. He flicked a look at Anka and shrugged. Taking that as permission to participate, Sybil allowed Anka to lead her out to join the closest group. She discovered it was a lot more invigorating than she’d expected, but she was pleased that she managed to follow the steps fairly well. Breathless by the time the song ended, she was more than happy to find a chair and collapse. Anka followed her but disappeared as soon as she sat down. He returned with a glass of water while she was searching the sea of dancers for the rest of her crew who’d disappeared.

    She took the glass gratefully. “I’m not nearly as fit as I thought I was,” she murmured ruefully.

    “I instructed them to turn up the cooling. It’s cool enough ordinarily, but we rarely engage in anything quite this vigorous.”

    For some reason the comment instantly connected in Sybil’s mind with vigorous sex. She wasn’t certain why unless it was his conversation of before. Ignoring the blush that gave away her thoughts, she smiled at the humor in his voice. “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be happy to sit here and catch my breath.”

    “I’ll be happy to sit with you and catch my breath. I’m not as young as I once was.”

    Sybil sent him a searching look, surprised to realize it hadn’t even occurred to her to wonder what his age might be. He looked young, but how did they look when they
were
older? She supposed, after a little thought, that he couldn’t be very young or he wouldn’t have attained the rank he held.

    He grimaced at the speculation in her eyes. “As it happens, I’m in my prime. That was meant to be humorous.”

    Sybil chuckled. “And wasted on a human. A
feril
would’ve known immediately that you were joking.”

    Something gleamed in his eyes. “Perhaps-maybe not. Maybe I look very youthful for my age?”

    “And maybe you look older than you actually are?” she suggested, smiling.

    He studied her face. “Maybe.”

    “How old do you think I am?”

    His gaze flickered over her face. “Oh, that’s completely immaterial to me as long as you’re breedable,” he said lightly.

    Sybil gaped at him, feeling her face redden.

    He chuckled. “I am fascinated by the way your face changes colors whenever you’re disconcerted. You do realize that?”