With Martha running on lecture-mode and delaying Shanelle’s return to Sunder, there hadn’t been much time for Shanelle to consider the temptation Donilla had offered her. But it didn’t take much time to figure out that altering Falon to suit her idea of the perfect man just wouldn’t work if he was going to take her home to Sha-Ka’an, where he would be reminded daily of the very things she’d like him to forget. It might work on Sunder, but she had no desire to stay there any longer than she had to, and Falon certainly wouldn’t be happy on that planet, where he would be nothing but an oddity.
Donilla was already there to greet Shanelle as she entered Lanar’s luxurious quarters at the science center. Everyone, it seemed, lived right where he or she worked. It made for a lot of long buildings and large, multi-floored work centers, and no single dwelling homes.
“I would have had you to my quarters,” Donilla began as she led Shanelle to one of three plushy cushioned couches, “but they’re-well, very austere in the military fashion.”
“And otherwise occupied by an ex-general my sister is secretly ashamed to call hers, now that he’s lost all his arrogance and bluster,” Lanar added cattily as she handed Shanelle a drink.
Shanelle didn’t know what to say after that. The one woman was blushing, the other smiling spitefully. Fortunately, Donilla recovered quickly.
“That isn’t true,” she told her sister. “I’m not ashamed of Ferrill. I merely miss-sometimes- the way he used to be.”
“You liked being swallowed up by that forceful personality he had? You used to complain that you had to ask his permission for every little thing you wanted to do, but now you miss-”
“I hardly think this is a subject our guest is interested in,” Donilla replied, her tone warning that she was starting to get angry.
Lanar paid no attention to the warning. “Why not? She comes from a society that still gives its women away in marriage. I’ll wager the man who’s coming after her is about as domineering and arrogant as Ferrill ever was.”
Shanelle almost laughed. The woman was deliberately turning the attack in her direction now, but she wasn’t going to take the bait.
“You’d lose that wager, Lanar, unless you changed the ‘about as’ to ’much more,‘ because no one can be as arrogant as a Sha-Ka’ani warrior, and they totally dominate all aspects of life on my world. Women can’t even work to support themselves or leave their home without a male escort. They have to be under a warrior’s protection, or they’re up for grabs by any man who wants them.”
It was hard to keep from grinning at the shocked look on both women’s faces. Shanelle took a sip of the greenish-blue liquid in her glass while she waited for their reaction.
“That’s utterly barbaric,” Lanar sneered.
“No wonder you’re running away,” Donilla sympathized.
Shanelle feigned a look of surprise. “Did I forget to mention that our women rarely complain about the way things are? Of course, when you see what warriors look like, you can maybe figure out why that’s so.”
Lanar made a sound of disgust. Donilla grinned. “So why run away?” she asked.
“My mother is from a different world, one that treats men and women equally, and where everyone is self-supporting. This gives her a different outlook, one she’s passed on to me. In fact, she’s made it possible for any woman who wants to work for herself, rather than be dependent on a man, to be able to leave Sha-Ka’an to join new colonies where women are desperately needed.”
“But has she made a dent in changing the dominant male culture she finds herself living in?” Lanar asked snidely.
“Not a scratch. But then it would be easier to walk on live coals than to get a warrior to change his ways-and that’s why I left. My mother puts up with the things she doesn’t like because she loves my father. I don’t have that to influence me.”
“Donilla did,” Lanar purred venomously. “But she opted for change when it was offered and now wishes she hadn’t. She’d rather be back under a man’s thumb.”
Shanelle was annoyed that she’d given Lanar an opening to attack her sister again, and this time she didn’t keep quiet about it. “What’s your problem, Lanar? Where I come form, siblings care about each other. They don’t try to draw blood with every other word they utter.”
Lanar obviously wasn’t expecting to be attacked in turn. Her reaction was the same as it had been at the space center when Shanelle had refused to accept her word. She flushed with color, looked for a moment like she could kill, mumbled something about seeing what was keeping dinner, and stiffly left the room.
“That wasn’t necessary, but thank you,” Donilla said, drawing Shanelle’s eyes back to her.
“Is she always like that?”
“With me, pretty much.”
“Do you know why?”
“Jealousy, I suppose. She has everything she could want-position, influence, and authority, even slaves to wait on her-but that’s not enough. She also wants what I have-even Ferrill. Despite her derogatory remarks about him, she’d love to lure him away from me. But he never liked Lanar, then or now.”
“I can’t say I blame him. Do, ah, you own slaves, too?”
Donilla shook her head, staring at a closed door behind Shanelle. “I’ve never wanted to have that kind of power over anyone. Besides, the military takes care of its own. Ferrill always had at least four aides jumping to do his bidding, which I inherited.”
“I supposed they had to be altered, too, and anyone else who knew him, to forget he was the general?”
The bleakness that Shanelle had noticed before entered Donilla’s expression again. “Yes. It got pretty complicated when we started taking over their jobs.”
Shanelle said gently, “It’s obvious you didn’t like doing that to your own man. If you aren’t happy with the way he is now, why don’t you release him from the altering?”
Donilla smiled sadly. “He’d kill me.”
“Maybe figuratively.” Shanelle grinned. “But then he’d probably thank you for giving him back himself. Those negative traits you women got rid of were part of your men. They may have made them difficult to get along with, but without them, all you’ve got are half men. You probably aren’t the only one unhappy with the present situation, and who’d like to have her man whole again.”
“I couldn’t make that decision on my own. If one gets released, he’ll start releasing all the others. Besides, we’d be right back where we started, with the men rushing hell-bent into war.”
“Humans are known to make those kinds of mistakes. Usually they learn by them and then get on with their lives.”
Before Donilla could reply, Lanar returned with two scantily dressed female slaves flanking her and announced curtly that dinner had arrived. The slaves carried large trays which were offered first to Lanar, after she’d seated herself again.
When a tray was held out to Shanelle, she found four full meals were being offered, all containing a variety of different selections. Like her hostess, she picked only one square plate, having no idea what she would be eating, but only slightly curious about it, her attention having been otherwise snared by the slaves. It was hard not to notice the marks of punishment on both of them, ugly red welts that striped the backs of their thighs and calves, more prominent on one girl than the other, as if she had received hers only that day.
Shanelle was appalled enough to demand an explanation from Lanar, but a buzzer sounded first, loud enough to startle her, and she watched as Donilla set her plate down on a table, took a small cube out of a pocket on her uniform jacket, and said, “What is it?”
A female voice came out of the cube, scratchy but audible-and panicked. “They’re here, five of them, and you better get over here, general. They’re not just bigger than the female, they’re… SEVEN… FEET… TALL!”