She nodded, saying nothing.
"Meanwhile, I'll have you taken back to your suite. Perhaps we'll talk again." He spoke to his commset. "Partiil, send in the young lady's guide."
When her guide had led her away, the Kalif looked at his lieutenant, whom she'd seemingly never noticed. "What do you think of her, Jilsomo?"
"Aside from her obvious and remarkable beauty? Your Reverence, I doubt she was a soldier."
The Kalif's eyebrows shot up. "Really? That makes two of us. Peculiar that everyone else assumed she was. I suppose it was her uniform. And she was captured on a battlefield. They didn't look further than that.
"What do you think the odds are that we'll learn anything of value from her?"
"I do not wager, Your Reverence. But if I had to, my bet would be that she wouldn't remember."
"I'd bet that you're right, Jilsomo," the Kalif said. "And that is a pity, for her as well as us."
Later, eating a solitary lunch, the Kalif found Tain Faronya on his mind again. He'd never been a man with much attention on women. As a bachelor marine captain, he'd kept a mistress for a time, a practice tolerated in the military if carried on discreetly by a bachelor. She'd been a very accomplished girl whom he'd enjoyed considerably, and who'd taught him more than a little. But as an ambitious young officer, he'd found her a distraction, besides which, she'd become a bit demanding. Or perhaps demanding wasn't the word; she'd assumed certain things, expected certain things. Nothing unreasonable; he'd recognized that at the time. But after a bit he'd discontinued the relationship, and had felt no need to replace her.
Later he'd had a few liaisons, then had received his appointment to the Prelacy. Since then, somewhat to his surprise, the professional challenges had sufficed.
This Tain Faronya, though-She was so damned lovely! If it were practical… But it wasn't. The man who could least get away with having a mistress was the Kalif. Less, even, than an exarch could. Of course, most exarchs were married; married and well beyond youth. In addition, a Kalif could marry only a virgin, a woman whose reputation was unspotted. Absolutely not some other man's ex-mistress.
A flash of animosity startled a low whistle out of him: for just a moment he'd hated Veeri Thoglakaveera for what he'd done! A sign, he thought, of how irrational a man could be, even himself, when influenced by a woman.
He wondered if he'd regret having seen her. Perhaps for a day or two, he told himself. He'd put someone else-Jilsomo-in charge of her interrogation by SUMBAA, and avoid seeing her again. He'd tell Jilsomo not to bother him with any problems about her, and soon other things would preempt his mind.
This afternoon there'd be Leolani, the colonel's wife, to see and question. Initially, he hadn't intended to see her; there'd seemed no point to it. What could she have learned from the female prisoner through casual conversation that SUMBAA and instrumented interrogation had not? But before lunch he'd decided he might as well. It could do no harm, and after all, Rashti had thought it worthwhile to send her. He'd see how it went; perhaps he'd be surprised.
The female prisoner was on Jilsomo Savbatso's mind at lunch, too, a lunch considerably larger and more epicurean than the Kalif's soldierly meal. She's like one of Yogandharaya's angels, he told himself. It's almost as if he'd used her for a model.
The exarch seldom thought about women. For one thing, he found strong satisfactions in his profession and its challenges-his profession and the best foods. Always had. Another reason was that, to the extent he felt sexually attracted to anyone, it was and had always been to men. Notably, these past five years, to Coso Biilathkamoro, first as a junior prelate on staff, later as Kalif.
Conveniently, these attractions had never been strong, and he'd felt no urge to pursue them. Nor at his age and condition did he expect to. Jilsomo had never indicated his predilections to anyone, either as boy or man. And Coso, alert and perceptive as he was, had never suspected, nor ever would. Jilsomo was sure of that.
But the female prisoner… It seemed to him that having seen her, he could understand, a little, what other men felt when they found a woman desirable. And if she made him desire to touch her, see her, perhaps do more…
It made him worry about the Kalif.
Twelve
The Kalif watched as Leolani Thoglakaveera stepped into the room. For a moment her uncertain eyes were on him. Then, walking toward the chair obviously meant for her, she glanced around, finding no one else.
He'd sent out not only his guard but Jilsomo as well, a last-moment act he couldn't have explained, except that it might help her speak more freely.
She stopped beside the chair, and he gestured. "Please be seated, Lady Thoglakaveera."
He watched her sit down, which she did as any well-trained aristocratic young woman might have: with the grace of a practiced act, but without the deeper grace of the accomplished dancer or gymnast. She was pretty, and more. Even ill-at-ease as she was, he sensed an obvious strength of character that was more than willfulness and the assurance that so often comes with noble birth and nurture. And he was confident that, unlike many other aristocratic young women of nineteen years, she could talk intelligently about things of relevance.
The colonel chose better than he may have realized, the Kalif told himself, and threw away more than he thought with his lust.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked.
"Yes, Your Reverence."
"Good. I understand you're a friend of the alien woman, Tain Faronya, who was brought to Klestron by Sultan Rashti's exploration force. Is that true?"
"Yes, Your Reverence."
"We suspect that her lost memories may include some of considerable interest and importance to Klestron and the Empire. It may be that these memories are lost irrevocably, but perhaps they're not."
He paused, waiting for whatever she might say. Realizing this, she replied, "I would hope they are not, Your Reverence. As it is, she is-incomplete."
The description took him by surprise, though it seemed highly apropos. "Have you heard her say anything that suggests some old memory not far beneath the surface of her mind?"
Leolani focused inward for a moment, considering, then shook her head. "Nothing that seemed that way to me, Your Reverence."
The Kalif focused inward, too. And found exactly what he was going to say next, though not why. "Have you heard the rumors about her and your husband?"
Her eyes sharpened, sparked. "They are not rumors, Your Reverence."
"You mean he did, actually, take an apartment for her and keep her there?"
She nodded once, sharply.
"And you would like to have your husband's love again?"
She blazed. "I have never had his love! No one has. Not me, not Tain. To him, she was something to use. Not some one; some thing. And vulnerable, having been wrested from her family. He took her from the ministry to bed her, nothing more. Two days before our wedding! I want nothing further to do with him." She paused, suppressing her fire. "I hope you will grant me a bill of divorcement. It is within your power."
Her outburst stopped him for a long moment. "Your feelings and your wish are both understandable," he said, then paused again. "And you're not angry at the woman Tain?"
Leolani shook her head. "She is blameless in this. Unless you wish to fault her for her beauty. In the room where she was kept in the Ministry, cameras were concealed, and men of the intelligence division would gather in the monitor room to watch her. Watch her disrobe, dance, bathe! And lusted for her. Disgusting men! Then, one night, Veeri disabled the monitors for her room and went there and told her that other men were going to come and rape and kill her if she didn't let him take her away. She was so frightened then that when he threw her down on her bed, she didn't resist."