Page 50 of Secret War

It didn’t matter her job as an Earther reporter was a front for her real work for the news agency based out of Galactic Council’s space. It hurt to have been passed over for what could be the biggest news of the year.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” she grumbled.

“Come again?”

She lifted her gaze to meet three pairs of purple eyes. Three ridiculously handsome faces. The stubborn part of her fought the instant lessening of her angst at the sight of Clan Deram, at their intensity as they watched her. She was the center of their attention, and a piece of her insisted on basking in it.

It recognized her astonishing luck and told her stubbornness to piss off, at least for the night. Only an idiot would refuse to take advantage of every second of Clan Deram’s presence she could claim.

They’d brought her to what she’d guessed was the best restaurant on the space station. The waiters wore uniforms. The floor cushions Kalquorians preferred to chairs were sumptuous, thanks to elegant fabrics. Instead of plates heaped with foods they’d ordered, a single dish was brought to each diner every few minutes for them to try, and in most cases, enjoy. Clean plates accompanied every course, as did small glasses of alcohol, which had been chosen by the steward to complement each dish.

Blythe was impressed despite her attempt not to be so and grateful she’d worn her best dress for the occasion.

She managed a smile. “A whole new Earth twirls beneath us. An evolved Earth, with a woman in charge, no Holy Leader, a fresh beginning. Yet I was frozen out of covering the arrest of the General Assembly’s speaker and reporting on the story, because I’m a woman.”

On her left, Deram uttered a sympathetic sound. “Do you really believe your gender’s the reason?”

“That and the fact I look like a teenager. The boss and the reporting pool are men in their forties or older. They were raised under the full might of Earth’s Church, where a penis was next to godliness.”

She heard how petulant she sounded and was embarrassed. She grabbed her glass of wine, imported from Haven, to cover her shame.

“Can you file a complaint?” Hadlez put a slice of the rizpah appetizer on her plate.

“I suppose, but all it would do is create hard feelings and possibly relegate me to the fashion pages. Yuck.” She lightened her tone and rolled her eyes playfully. “Forget it. I have a lead that might give me a bigger exposé on Mitchell, thanks to Selt. I might take aholiday—” she made air quotes “—and see what I can learn of his former interns on Mercy.”

Selt’s brow rose. “We agreed my name wouldn’t come up where any of it is concerned.”

“It won’t. My word is good. You must believe it, or you wouldn’t have asked me to dinner.” She smirked at the man across the table from her. “But while we’re on the subject—”

“We’re dropping the subject,” Deram said. “This is a night out. No conversations about work. You mentioned how your co-workers were raised under the Church’s influence. You weren’t?”

She stared at him. Dramoks were the natural leaders of Kalquor, but she’d never noticed just how a tone could make her want to obey his command. Was it because he’d used it on her? Had none of the Dramoks she’d spoken to before elicited an instinctive wish to comply?

She had no recall of such a situation, and an impulse rose in her to defy him instead.Play along, her better senses advised.You can always steer the discussion where you want later.

“Um, yes, I was raised on Earth, of course. My situation was a bit different from many girls, however, and later when I went to university.”

“How was it different?” Hadlez leaned forward, interest brightening his gaze.

“Being allowed to attend university, I’d think. Weren’t many women discouraged from prolonged education?” Selt’s fascination matched his clanmates’.

“It was a women’s school. They called it journalism studies, but the focus was on writing stories directing women to their proper place as homemakers and babymakers.” Blythe rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong; being a stay-at-home mom is a huge and important job. My mother did it, and if she’d been paid her worth, we would have been the richest people on the planet.”

“Did she die during Armageddon?” Hadlez looked as if he feared her answer.

“No. She lives on Mercy.” Blythe took a hefty swallow of her wine before the waiters could swoop in and claim what she hadn’t drunk. The next course, announced as roasted potatoes in rosemary and wedi sauce, was set on the table.

“Ah. Visiting her would grant you cover for the trip you hope to take there,” Deram guessed.

“Hardly. She disowned me ages ago. Nope, I won’t be seeing her again.”

“I’m sorry.” He and the rest appeared stunned. Upset on her behalf. How sweet.Most Earthers stared at her as if to say, what did you do to deserve it?

“Don’t be. I’m used to leaving people behind.”

“Really?” Hadlez’s dismay increased.

“Your father was military until he was killed in the war between Earth and Kalquor. You moved around a lot as a child. How many different territories…sorry, countries did you live in?” Selt asked, his tone even.

---