She lowered her chin so she could look me in the eye. Her eyes were solid black, blinking slightly — Mandasars don’t cry when they’re sad, but their faces can still be heartbreaking. "Troyen is at war. You could be killed… and then where would we be?"
What could I say? That I wasn’t the savior she thought? I didn’t want to go back to Troyen, but I wasn’t worth much on Celestia. People would soon see I didn’t have a head for organization, or strategy, or rousing speeches, or anything that could help anyone. I said, "If Admiral Ramos thinks I’d be useful on Troyen—"
"This Admiral Ramos," Counselor interrupted. "Is she your lover?"
I winced. Zeeleepull must have blabbed how he’d found Festina and me in the forest. "No," I said. "She’s not my lover."
"Do you intend to make her your lover?"
"No. She’s an admiral. Anyway, I can’t make anyone my lover — people don’t work that way."
"Teelu" Counselor whispered, "Teelu, Teelu, Teelu, don’t you know you can make anyone into anything you want?" She cupped my chin in her weak upper hands, holding me so she could stare straight into my eyes. "Don’t you know," she whispered, "you can stir any heart and make it yours?"
If she’d been human, her words would have been an invitation. Maybe even a plea. Over the years, other women had come to me with that kind of offer… because they liked the way I looked, because they were bored, or because they’d been hurt by someone else and thought, Oh, Edward, at least he won’t be cruel. They told me that to my face — I was "pretty" and "safe" and "decent."
And plenty of times, I’d said yes. In my twenty years on the moonbase, new personnel would arrive and even though I knew they’d just leave again after six months, sometimes you tell yourself six months is six months. (Forgetting how lonely it is when they go away… the awful point where they start pulling back from you, even before they ship out… how sometimes they’re never there with you at all, just treating you like medicine that’ll keep them from getting cranky.)
So yes, there’d been human women; but not Mandasars. Gentles didn’t make come-ons, ever. Not to their own species and certainly not to humans. Even in egg-heat, gentles didn’t act amorous — it was all pheromone signals, not direct attempts at seduction. "I’m available," not "Now, now, now!" Whatever Counselor wanted to tell me, it was just my one-track human mind misinterpreting it as… the sort of proposition you yearn for when things are going all lonesome.
"Counselor." I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, feeling her thin carapace yield: fragile as eggshell compared to a warrior’s armor. She put her arms around my shoulders and my waist, then pressed her snout against my neck… maybe another kiss, maybe just where her nose ended up. "I’m not as special as you think," I told her. "Verity married me for politics, not because I was some hero. And the way you kids react to me — it’s just the smell of venom, that’s all. Sooner or later, you’ll get mad at me for not being what you hope."
She pulled back a bit from my neck so she could look me in the eye. "You are the Little Father Without Blame," she said. "You’re more than we hoped, and more than you know. Just for tonight, I wish I were your own species… so you’d stop treating me like some child you mustn’t corrupt. I was raised by humans, Teelu; I’m not as naive as you think."
Once more she leaned in for a kiss: light, quick, on my cheek, then she slipped softly out of my arms. I let her go, stunned by what she was suggesting. I couldn’t, I couldn’t, I couldn’t — for all that she was a grown-up of her species, she didn’t know… she was confused by the smell of venom, that had to be it. And by her human upbringing. After years of hume stories like "Snow White" and "Cinderella," Counselor might fantasize about offering herself to some Prince Charming; but Mandasars didn’t really feel… they didn’t really want…
Did they?
She was still very close, near enough that I could smell her soft ginger scent; and she was waiting for me to call her back. To reach for her hand or her kiss. But it wouldn’t be right. Whatever she thought she wanted, it truly wasn’t in her nature. I couldn’t take advantage of her, no matter how soothing it would be just to give in, surrender, get lost in the dark.
Counselor must have seen the decision on my face because she sighed quietly — a human sigh, yet another mannerism she must have picked up from the people who raised her. "Teelu" she murmured, "may I at least accompany you on your journey? To Troyen?"
"It’ll be dangerous," I said. "They’re still at war."
"All the more reason for me to go. You humans will be conspicuous and perhaps treated as enemies. I won’t attract as much attention."
"Yes, you will," I told her. "There are so many things you were never taught. Ways to behave. And habits you’ve picked up that just aren’t Mandasar. You’d stand out as badly as any human."
"Not if you teach me. The voyage to Troyen takes ten days — I can learn quickly. I’ll study with you every waking second."
"But if I let you come," I said, "then Zeeleepull would want to go too. And Hib Nib Pib."
"Well, of course," she answered, as if that had never been in doubt. "We all have to go." She fluttered her whiskers teasingly. "You wouldn’t want to recruit me off by myself, would you?" The fluttering stopped. "Would you?"
Her last "would you?" was so wistful — as if she still hoped I might take her seriously. I couldn’t possibly… not because she was an alien, but because she was so young and innocent.
And because in my head I might be thinking of other women besides her.
If I told that to Counselor straight out, it would hurt her feelings; so I decided to give her one thing when I couldn’t give the other.
"All right," I said. "I’ll talk to Admiral Ramos about taking your hive to Troyen."
Immediately there was a cheer — not from Counselor but from four other voices. Zeeleepull and the workers tumbled out of the next room, all glee and triumph. "Troyen!" Zeeleepull yelled. "Troyen going, Troyen seeing, Troyen going, Troyen seeing…"
He might have been singing. And dancing. It’s hard to tell with Mandasars.
"I told you she could make Teelu say yes," Hib whispered, elbowing Nib proudly. "And she didn’t even have to sleep with him."
"Don’t you know anything?" Nib answered. "She wanted to sleep with him."
"After all," Pib added, "he’s a king."
21
TAKING OUR LEAVE
Festina came back the next day at noon. By then the workers had packed, Counselor had arranged for neighboring hives to look after the vegetable fields, and Zeeleepull had made a complete nuisance of himself, getting in everybody else’s way.
Of all of the kids, he was the most excited — telling me things he wanted to see on Troyen, places he wanted to go, stuff he wanted to do. After a while I just had to say, "You realize if we’re lucky, we’ll never set foot on the planet. Radio the missing Explorers, pick them up, fly away. No going down ourselves unless there’s a problem."
"But Troyen is," he insisted. "Is Troyen. Is home."
"Was home," I said. "Nobody knows what-all’s been destroyed in the past twenty years. Buildings bombed. Famous art burned or stolen. Even natural scenery gets wrecked or covered with ugly-looking bunkers. Whatever you think you’ll see, it’s not there anymore."